Desperation
by o-Vana-o0
Summary: Aragorn and Legolas are in Gondor shortly after the attack on the Corsairs. Old enemies endanger their lives and a choice must be made. But who will pay the price? Written in response to Cassia and Sio's challenge
1. Trapped

Disclaimer: Nothing that is familiar as either Tolkien's or Cassie and  
Sio's is mine. _____________________________________________________  
Chapter 1  
  
Night had fallen deep over the plains of the Rohirrim, giving at least the semblance of peace to an area that had been riffed with war merely twelve hours ago. The dead had been tended to, funeral songs had been sung with much weeping, and now the warriors were resting, preparing for the next day's march to Isengard.  
  
In the midst of the great citadel of Helm's Deep, in a room far removed from the main traffic of the halls, stayed a Man, a Dwarf and an Elf.  
  
The Man, known to many now as Aragorn son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, slept on one of the two beds, stretched out on his stomach, snoring softly. His re-forged sword rested against the bed close to his head, and although he seemed to be dead to the world, any who knew him knew he would be awake and clear-headed enough to fight if danger threatened.  
  
In the other bed slept the Dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin. He was stretched out on his back, looking for all the world like an up-ended turtle. His axe was on the bed beside him, ready to be snatched up at a moment's notice. His snores rattled the windowpanes, making any who heard wonder how his friends got any sleep, to which the other two occupants of the room would simply reply that they had grown accustomed to the racket.  
  
In the chair that came with the room sat the Elf, Legolas Greenleaf son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, his legs propped up on the windowsill and the chair leaned back slightly under him. Any who did not know him would swear he slept, for his wide-open eyes were slightly glazed over. Had Aragorn been awake, however, he would have been the first to know that the Elf was not sleeping, only thinking.  
  
He would have been right. The Elf's cobalt blue eyes, though they were cast over with a dreamy haze, were dreamy with thoughts, not with real sleep.  
  
Looking at the Man, sleeping so soundly and peacefully, Legolas could hardly believe to look at him that they had just come through a battle for their lives. Aragorn looked as peaceful as he had sleeping safely in Legolas' guest chambers with no other worries than trying to keep up with the Elf all day.  
  
'Mayhap it is a defense reaction,' mused the Elf. 'Mayhap he forces himself to sleep in some semblance of peace so he does not have to think.'  
  
That reminded him of another time; a time filled not with open war, but with little skirmishes and where private adventures occupied the Prince and the ranger, not the Quest of the Ring. This time seemed to be both so long ago, far removed from the wars and pain of the present time, and unbearably close, full of memories both painful and pleasant.  
  
Looking out the window with eyes that were suddenly hard with the remembered pain, Legolas noted the position of the stars...and smiled slightly. They were arranged just as they had been sixty years ago, when an Elf Prince and a human ranger had camped merrily under them with only joy and peace in their hearts.  
  
Many, many adventures had the two gone through together, but this night, the Elf was reminded of a terrible choice set before them; one that should have resulted in the death of both friends...but was prevented by the intervention of a greater hand.  
  
Aragorn woke slightly, looking at the Prince and out the window. Legolas heard the Man wake and looked at him with a look both comforting and firm, one that ordered the younger Man to get his needed sleep, but one that also reassured him that danger was far enough away to safely sleep--for now. It was such looks that aged Legolas' perpetually young face and reminded the human that the Elf was several thousand years older than him, instead of about twenty, as he always looked.  
  
Rolling onto his side, facing the wall, the ranger obeyed the silent command and fell asleep again, his dreams going back to the time that Legolas was remembering, the time where life and death were literally separated by only a choice...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Estel, we must move on." Legolas' voice echoed in the ranger's mind. "It is not safe here."  
  
Pain lanced through the ranger's heart as he looked up at the Prince. The Elf's eyes were filled with sympathy, but the sense of impending danger was also reflected in the blue depths.  
  
Looking back at the mounded dirt, Aragorn's eyes closed in sorrow again. Too young...the boy had been too young. Why did this young Man, whom Aragorn had only just met, have to die so soon? He had only been 18...  
  
Bending, the Elf grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Estel, we cannot linger here...unless you wish to join him under the ground."  
  
Taking a shuddering breath, the ranger stood up, knuckling tears away from his eyes. "Then let us go, and quickly."  
  
Snatching his bow from the ground, where he had let it fall after the battle that had left so many orcs dead on the field and in which the young Man had fallen, fighting valiantly, the Man followed Legolas away from the battlefield.  
  
Legolas gripped Aragorn's arm in silent support as they ran for the woods. Evening was falling over the woods, bringing with it a sense of impending danger and foreboding that set the Elf on edge.  
  
The friends were just outside the borders of the kingdom of Gondor, patrolling the borders and keeping orcs out as best as they could. Aragorn was doing so as a member of the Dunedain; Legolas was along for the practice and the time with his friend.  
  
In the woods, Legolas' eyes looked everywhere at once; fear tensing his muscles and prodding him forward as fast as he could go. Aragorn sensed his friend's fear, and it scared him as well, as Legolas feared absolutely nothing or no one.  
  
Pulling to a halt, the Elf listened hard. His lips pursed and he readied an arrow.  
  
"What is it?" Aragorn barely breathed, his hand moving to his sword. Straining, he sent his senses as far as he could, but could not find the source of the disturbance that troubled the Elf's heart.  
  
"I do not know...and that troubles me." Legolas' voice was naught but a whisper, no higher than a wisp of wind, but Aragorn, standing right behind his friend, heard it plainly.  
  
Before either could speak another word, the ground opened beneath them, swallowing them before either could do more than shout their surprise. Dirt surrounded them, covered their faces, and choked them as it filled their open mouths. At last, they hit bottom with a painful thud.  
  
Once the dust had settled, Legolas looked frantically for Aragorn, calling the human's name after spitting out the dirt that had lodged in his mouth. A dull pain raced up the Elf's left leg as he walked toward the mound of dirt, and he winced, but kept walking, obviously favoring that leg.  
  
"Aragorn?" he called again, straining his Elven senses. A moan reached his ears and he ran for the source of it. The Man lay on the ground, half buried in dirt and his face twisted with pain. Legolas dropped to his knees by the Man and began quickly digging Aragorn out, murmuring soothing words the whole time.  
  
Aragorn helped as much as he could, and in moments, he was free and sitting on the pile of dirt, examining his legs as quickly as he could in the dark.  
  
Legolas stood up and scanned the immediate area, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened...and whether or not it was deliberate.  
  
As his eyes adjusted to the faint lighting, he realized that this cavern they had fallen into was carved, not natural. It also was a cave, a small fact Legolas had over-looked in his worry for his friend. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his breathing picked up about three notches.  
  
Aragorn heard the Elf's heightened breathing and looked at his friend. In the gloom, Legolas' natural light seemed to blaze, and in that extra light, Aragorn could plainly see the Elf's wide eyes and the sweat beading on his forehead. He got up with a tiny wince and walked to where his friend stood, staring around.  
  
"Legolas," he murmured. Even the soft murmur of the Man's voice seemed to echo unbearably in the closed-in space, and the addressed Elf flinched. "Legolas, you must remain calm. Otherwise, we have no chance."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to still his racing heart and control his breathing. When he opened his eyes again, he was marginally calmer. At least his breathing was more controlled.  
  
"We should look around a bit," the Elf finally said, his tone trembling with the need to see natural light, soon. "Perhaps we can find a way out."  
  
Aragorn nodded his agreement and rested his hand on Legolas' shoulder. The Elf still felt as tense as his bowstring, but he seemed to gain strength from his friend's presence and physical contact.  
  
As far as Aragorn could tell, they explored the chamber they had landed in for an hour or so. The passage they had been dumped through had closed up again, leaving only the smallest trace of natural light from that source. They had tried splitting up to explore, but Aragorn had found he couldn't see without Legolas' light, and beyond that, the Elf seemed much better with the dark when his friend was beside him.  
  
At the end of the hour, they had found that this chamber had only one other exit...and it was sealed shut. Not even the Elf's considerable strength could open it. All they could do was wait until who- or whatever had created this trap came back. Until then, they sat on the pile of dirt.  
  
Aragorn knew better than to fall asleep, as leaving Legolas alone with his fears would be a horribly bad idea. Instead he leaned against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest, and asked quietly, "Do you remember the winter I stayed with you, and the ambush Raniean and Trelan tricked us into?"  
  
A soft chuckle sounded from Legolas. The Elf sat with his back to the wall beside the human and his eyes closed, trying to block out the awful dark. "Yes, I remember," replied Legolas, "and I seem to recall that they creamed you."  
  
"I could have gotten away if you had made the snowballs you were supposed to," retorted the human with a broad grin, "instead of howling with laughter like a taerg."  
  
"If you could have seen your face," smiled the Elf Prince, "when Trelan caught you in the face with that snowball..." He opened his eyes and tensed as the darkness closed in on him.  
  
Aragorn saw the tension and fear take his friend over again and scooted closer to him. The Elf glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes as the human got closer.  
  
Resting an arm around Legolas' shoulder, Aragorn pulled the Elf close. "Close your eyes," he ordered, "and remember the ambush."  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Aragorn's shoulder. Breathing deeply, he collected himself, and Aragorn felt the Elf relax against him.  
  
The silence lasted for a few comfortable moments, the friends breathing in unison.  
  
The rumble of gears broke the peace and Legolas' eyes flew open as the friends jumped to their feet. As the door finished opening, at least twenty Men, all armed to the teeth, covered the door as a small Man entered and smirked up at the friends.  
  
"What a touching scene," he remarked, crossing his arms.  
  
Legolas set an arrow to his bow, glaring at the little Man with fire in his eyes, but Aragorn gently put a hand on his shoulder, telling him without words to wait. Legolas looked over his shoulder at his friend, tension showing plainly in his blue eyes, but he trusted the judgment of his friend. His motions jerky, the Elf replaced the arrow and waited, his bow held loosely at his side.  
  
The little Man puffed up a bit, obviously reassured that the Elf was seemingly cooperating. "Men, chain them up, and mind that Elf."  
  
Legolas panicked momentarily as the men came for him with thick chains over their hands. He backed away until his back hit a wall, his hands clenched into fists.  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn's voice resonated through the room from where he stood, taking the chains fairly peaceably. "Anno estel enni!" Trust me!  
  
Legolas' eyes shuttled to his friend nervously as he considered his options. At last, he sighed and bowed his head slightly. Holding out his hands, he said quietly, "Im estel le." I trust you. The men caught the slight defeat in his posture and his tone, though they couldn't understand the words, and surged forward. Aragorn momentarily lost sight of his friend's golden head in the swarm of dark-haired men, and his ears were assailed with the sounds of rattling chains and soft hisses. At first, the grey-eyed Man thought that the hisses were hisses of pain from either Legolas or the men, but when they pulled away from Legolas, Aragorn saw the true source of the hisses in Legolas' wide, terrified eyes.  
  
Legolas' quiver was ripped viciously from his shoulders and his bow was confiscated. Aragorn's sword followed the same path, and Aragorn felt helpless without it.  
  
As the friends were forced from the chamber, Aragorn pressed close to Legolas, bumping shoulders with the Prince. Legolas accepted the unspoken comfort and murmured in soft Elvish, "You had better come through, Strider."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "When have I not?" he inquired softly, a tone of teasing underlying his words.  
  
"Do you truly wish me to list the occasions?" asked the Elf Prince, an answering teasing note in his voice.  
  
Aragorn didn't have a chance to answer as a sharp cuff landed on first his, then Legolas' ear. From the Prince's flinch, the blow was unnecessarily sharp for talking.  
  
The group continued on in silence for a long moment until they reached an area where the sunlight flooded in uninhibited. Legolas came to a dead halt and breathed in deeply, closing his eyes against the bright light. The men yanked on his chains, but to no avail. Legolas had been in the dark far too long, and he wanted to relish the sun.  
  
A fist smashed into the small of the Elf's back, and the Prince winced but still refused to move. His chained hands grabbed the edge of the wall, bracing himself as the men yanked on his already raw wrists, trying to force the Elf to move.  
  
"Come on, you bleedin' Elf!" snapped one of the men in a rough, lower city accent. "Don't make me get rough with you..."  
  
"Legolas..." Aragorn's voice was worried.  
  
Legolas responded to the worry in his friend's tone. Looking at the ranger, the Elf saw rank fear in his friend's eyes. The Elf's eyes narrowed. Aragorn only looked that scared when...  
  
Legolas turned slightly, just in time to catch a swung chain across his midsection. The air fled from his lungs with a loud whoosh as the slight Elf staggered backwards. The burly Man behind the Elf grinned at the response and raised the chain to do it again.  
  
This blow caught the Elf across the rib cage and flung him across the area, flinging him against Aragorn. The human had seen that coming and was braced to catch his flying friend. Wrapping his arms around Legolas, Aragorn spun in time to catch the next blow aimed at Legolas on his own back. A soft hiss escaped him as the links dug together, pinching his skin viciously.  
  
Legolas figured out what his friend was doing an instant later and tried to struggle free of the human's grip, but Aragorn was having none of it. The chain connecting Aragorn's hands together dug into Legolas' back as the human spun again, putting himself back in the path of the swinging chain. His gasp of pain was muffled as he buried his face in Legolas' blonde hair, but the Elf heard it clearly.  
  
Fighting free of his friend, the Elf held up his chained hands in a gesture of supplication. "I-I will come." His voice was very, very soft, but everyone in the chamber heard it.  
  
The burly Man looked disappointed, but the tiny Man looked relieved. "Then keep walking, you bedamned Elf," growled the burly Man, shoving Legolas hard.  
  
The Elf stumbled, but caught himself before he actually fell and started walking away from the sunlight. His heart screamed at having to leave the light behind, but he pressed forward, his lips pursed in an expression very much like his father's.  
  
Aragorn was close on his friend's heels and soon caught up with him. No word was exchanged, but they both understood how the other felt.  
  
The group traveled in silence down and down and down, until Legolas felt he must be in the center of the earth. He was trembling, though he didn't realize it.  
  
Several of the guards began picking on Legolas, pushing him around and taunting his fear in their coarse language. Legolas bore it better than Aragorn might have expected, given how afraid he was.  
  
With a start, Aragorn recognized the coarse language that their kidnappers were speaking. It was the language of the Corsairs of Umbar, and at that realization, his heart sank straight to his toes. It was only recently that he had finished his stint as Thorongil, Captain of Gondor, and he had led an attack on the Umbar encampment before they could attack Gondor. With a chill that ran up his spine to the base of his neck, he realized that Legolas was being put through all this underground travel because of him.  
  
Legolas was growing tenser and tenser the deeper they went, and the men's coarse jesting did not help at all. At last, they crossed the line by grabbing at his unique pointed ears.  
  
With a wince born of both anger and pain, the Elf casually shoulder-checked the people closest to him, throwing them into the people behind them.  
  
Aragorn quickly used the distraction to move close to Legolas' side and urge him onward. Once the men had recovered, they charged after Legolas with angry shouts, but Aragorn blocked their advances easily, and the tiny Man called them off after the first few failed attempts.  
  
As they kept going, Legolas nudged against Aragorn's side. When the ranger looked at the Elf, Legolas mouthed, "Hannon le." Thank you.  
  
Aragorn just nodded, acknowledging the silent thanks.  
  
At last, they reached a point where they weren't going down anymore, much to Legolas' not-so-private relief, and began walking down corridors of rooms. Men poured out of the rooms to greet the hunters and jeer the prisoners.  
  
Using the loudness about them as a shield, Legolas asked quietly, "Do they actually live down here?" Disbelief was rank in his voice.  
  
Aragorn nodded and, leaning close to his friend, he said in a barely audible voice, "They have nowhere else to live. We have driven them out of the lands they tried to inhabit in Gondor."  
  
Legolas shuddered. "I cannot think how they survive it," he murmured quietly as the group turned a corner.  
  
Aragorn nodded his agreement whole-heartedly.  
  
The area about them changed subtly, as best as Aragorn could see in Legolas' light. The doorways into rooms changed from simple latches on a piece of wood to heavily barred stone slabs. Aragorn realized that they had moved from the habitable areas into the prison areas, and he gritted his teeth.  
  
Ahead of them, a door yawned open, and the leader sneered, "Welcome to your new home, Captain of Gondor." With that, both the Elf and the Man were thrown into the same cell, Aragorn first. Legolas caught himself against the wall before he actually hit the floor, but Aragorn landed on the floor with a bruising crash.  
  
The door slammed shut with an echoing slam, leaving the friends in the dark save for the natural light that glowed from Legolas' skin. A very soft whimper escaped Legolas' lips as he slid down the wall to the floor, hugging his knees.  
  
Aragorn picked himself up from the ground painfully and went to where his friend huddled. Carefully, he put his hand on the quivering, slender shoulder. Legolas flinched at the touch, and Aragorn retreated, hurt.  
  
Legolas looked up at his friend. In the faint light, apology was evident in his blue eyes. "I am sorry," he whispered. "It is not you, I swear it."  
  
Aragorn nodded and settled himself beside his friend. A long moment passed in silence before Aragorn said quietly, "This is my fault."  
  
Legolas actually managed to laugh. "Do not start the blaming cycle again, Estel. It will get you nowhere."  
  
"No, Legolas, I mean it," The ranger looked at his friend, guilt written on every line of his tired face. "You would not be in this situation if it were not for me."  
  
Legolas looked at his friend, concern lining his face. "What do you mean, Estel?" he asked quietly.  
  
"These men are Corsair men." Aragorn said that as if that was the only explanation needed.  
  
"And..." Legolas prompted when the Man stopped talking.  
  
Aragorn looked at his friend incredulously. "They are doing this because I am Thorongil, the Man who led the attack on their attempted take-over! They only took you too because you were with me."  
  
Legolas thought about that for a moment. "This still is not your fault, Strider," he said quietly. "They are fueled by revenge and anger. You do not control their actions; only your own."  
  
With a sigh, Aragorn just shook his head. He knew Legolas was right, but he hated the fact that Legolas was being forced to live in his worst nightmare because of the human.  
  
Legolas let it go for now. Aragorn would have to face the truth eventually, but Legolas couldn't force it on him.  
  
The friends sat in silence for a time before Legolas got up. Aragorn followed the glowing figure with his eyes as the Elf explored the small cell. There wasn't much to it, just four walls and a stack of hay in the far corner. Legolas stopped there and called to Aragorn, "Estel, come here."  
  
Estel pulled himself to his feet and walked to where the Elf Prince stood, waiting for him. Taking the human's arm, Legolas steered him into a relaxed position on the straw, belly down. "You need your sleep, human," he said with a quiet grin. "I will keep watch for a time."  
  
"Are you sure?" yawned the human, resting his head on his crossed arms sleepily.  
  
"Yes, I am sure. Sleep." Legolas' voice was so compelling that the human fell asleep without any further argument.  
  
Legolas watched the sleeping human idly as he rested the back of his head against the wall behind him. Contrary to his waking face, Estel looked as peaceful as a little child when he slept, and Legolas laughed softly at the reminder that the human was much younger than he looked.  
  
The hours of the night ticked slowly by, marked by Legolas' trailing thoughts and Aragorn's steady breathing.  
  
(A/N: Like it? Hate it? Want more? Send reviews to feed the hungry review monster!) 


	2. A Choice

((A/N: Just in case the first chapter's disclaimer was as garbled to you as it was to me, here it is again. I own nothing and no one...except my ideas. Those are all mine, thankies kindly. This chapter has implied (nothing explicit) rape. If this troubles you, please don't read. Thanks to all my reviewers, replies are on the bottom of this chapter.))  
  
________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Legolas' inner clock had just informed him of the sun's rising outside when Aragorn woke to the sounds of heavy footsteps. Immediately, the Man sprang to his feet to join the Elf, who was already standing in a crouched position, ready for whatever might come through that door.  
  
The heavy door swung open slowly, and a small group of men entered, keeping their weapons trained on the tense beings inside. The same tiny Man that had been the leader on the way down entered behind the other men, and he sneered up at the two.  
  
Legolas, considerably calmer than he had been the day before, looked derisively down at the small Man and considered various ways to kill him.  
  
"Have a good sleep, poppets?" The Man had an incredibly whiney voice that grated on both males' nerves as they listened. "I hope you did, for today the fun begins."  
  
At those words, both the Man and the Elf tensed, stepping into ready stances and waiting for anyone to make the first move. "Take them, men!" ordered the tiny Man as he stepped back.  
  
'Coward,' was the only thought Legolas had time for as the men came at the two friends. Moving back-to-back, Aragorn and Legolas fought off all attackers as they came, ducking blows and lashing out sharply. But there were too many of them, and soon the friends were overwhelmed and flung to the ground. Their fighting spirit earned them a set of shackles on their ankles, and Legolas winced as the men attached them much too tight about his slim anklebones.  
  
Spears poking their backs, the friends were forced down the hall at a quick trot. Legolas whispered to Aragorn, "So much for that, eh?"  
  
Aragorn just nodded, trying to breathe.  
  
At last, they reached a large room where the two beings were flung to their knees. Legolas' proud spirit made him try and struggle off his knees, but all that earned him was a smack across the back of the head and someone heavy standing on the chain that linked his ankles together.  
  
Aragorn's quick eyes darted around, trying to see into the shadows cast by the flickering torches stuck into sconces on the walls. The room was larger than he had guessed at first, and at the front of the room was sort of a raised dais on which sat a throne carved from bones. The room was full of Corsair men, all holding weapons of some sort. On the bone throne sat a huge Man, almost too big for the throne, with long jet-black hair braided back off his face and a long mangy beard.  
  
He stood up slowly and assessed the two kneeling beings. Both of their heads were up proudly, anger flashing from the eyes of the golden haired one and quiet fury rumbled in the ones of the former Captain of Gondor.  
  
"Remember me, Thorongil?" he asked, stopping in front of the friends.  
  
Aragorn met the dark eyes examining him. A spark of memory flashed in his eyes, but he couldn't quite place how he knew this Man. Then, he remembered. The night of the Corsair attack, the leader had engaged in single combat with Aragorn, delaying the human until Aragorn had been forced to run the Man through. Though starlight and flickering torchlight had been the only lights, the face of the Man had been burned in his memory forever. That face now looked down at him.  
  
"But you died!" Aragorn said, his tone incredulous.  
  
"Had I known I would be interfering with the meeting of old friends..." Legolas' mutter was barely audible, but the guard on his leg chains heard and stopped his words with a sharp punch in the shoulder blade. Legolas hissed in soft pain as he doubled forward.  
  
"No, Thorongil. You missed the vital organs and I saw a healer shortly afterwards. I lived." The Man pointedly ignored Legolas' comment, though he was too close to not have heard it. "I lived with the pain for months, lived with the fear that I was going to die every second, lived with the hate of the Man who put me in that position. And now you, Thorongil, you will live through everything you put me through. You will beg for death, but I will not be that merciful. You will beg for coolness to soothe the fire, but relief will not come."  
  
Aragorn continued to meet the Corsair's eyes, no fear showing in his. Legolas, however, could feel the Man's muscles tense beside him in silent fear.  
  
The Corsair leader waited long for any reaction. When none came, the Corsair looked at the fair being beside Aragorn, noted the fearful defiance and the proud set of his jaw. The Corsair had never seen anything quite like the fair being in front of him, and he stared long at him. Legolas' golden hair seemed to shine in the torchlight and light seemed to shimmer about his skin. The torchlight illuminated his pale skin, rippling in jagged patterns and glittering in his angry eyes.  
  
"And what are you?" asked the Corsair rhetorically. He walked slowly to stand directly in front of the Elf. Legolas' eyes followed the Man, but his head didn't move. "Are you some witch-breed of human?" Bending a bit, the Corsair touched the tip of Legolas' right ear.  
  
Legolas flinched away before he could help himself. The ears were very sensitive places for Elves, and to touch one without the owner's permission...it was very dangerous. If Legolas had had his bow, it would have gone ill for the Man. As it was, the Prince firmed his jaw and glared up at the Man.  
  
The Corsair leader noted the flinch and the defiant stare that followed it. "I see," he murmured. "Breaking you will be very interesting."  
  
"You could *try*," Legolas said coldly. "Better men than you have tried. They now stand before the judgment seat of Mandos, answering for their deeds."  
  
"The only seat you need be concerned with, filthy Elf, is the seat I sit on, for it is your judgment seat this day," replied the Man with a humorless smile.  
  
"Then I have naught to fear. You can force my body to kneel. You can even kill this body. But my spirit will remain unbroken." The quiet assurance in Legolas' eyes outweighed the fear that lingered there.  
  
"We shall see, Elf. We shall see." There was no smile this time: only a cold anger.  
  
Aragorn was amazed. Even here, trapped beneath thousands of tons of rocks, in a living nightmare, Legolas was sure of himself. That surety won over even the deepest-rooted fear and gave the Elf a quiet eloquence that none could contradict.  
  
The Corsair leader turned to his men, breaking the gaze between himself and Legolas first. He snapped something in their rough tongue. The exact meaning remained a mystery to both friends, but the gist of it became clear as half the men grabbed Legolas and chained him to two convenient sconces beside the throne.  
  
Aragorn started to rise, concerned for his friend, but several guards smashed him in the back all at once, driving him back to his knees with a painful grunt. The Corsair leader smiled again, moving to stand in front of the Elf.  
  
Legolas' wrists were bleeding sluggishly as he tried to hold still in his bonds. He was chained just fair enough above the floor that his toes barely touched the floor, and he stretched, trying to relieve the pressure on his wrists. 'This is far too much like it was in Mordor,' he muttered mentally, managing to get purchase on the floor.  
  
"Hurts, doesn't it, Elf?" The Corsair's voice was coolly nonchalant. "Luckily for you, for the time being, this is the worst pain you will feel. Your Gondorian friend will take the brunt of this for now."  
  
Legolas' eyes flashed. Quick as lighting, he jerked himself up by the wrists, ignoring the stabbing pain, and kicked the Man with all his strength in the stomach. The kick literally drove the Corsair off his feet and flung him backwards into one of his men; no small feat, given how big he was. Legolas was unable to stifle a tiny whimper as his feet came to rest on the floor again.  
  
Getting up, the Corsair stormed over to Legolas. He stood at an angle that the Elf couldn't reach with his feet and smashed the elf across the face with his balled fist again and again. Legolas didn't duck his head, taking the abuse with a calm, steady glare.  
  
The Corsair backed away and stared at the Elf. Even with one eye swelling and trickles of blood running from his lips and nose, Legolas looked unbelievably regal, and the Corsair was afraid.  
  
Turning away, the Corsair was confronted with the equally level, angry glare from the former Captain of Gondor. Aragorn was not at all pleased with what the Corsair had just done to his friend, and he let his eyes say everything his mouth did not dare to.  
  
The Corsair attempted a nonchalant sneer, but the other Man's calm glare scared him more than he wanted to admit. The Corsair walked until he stood behind the Gondorian and drew a knife from his belt. Aragorn tensed as he felt the blade touch the back of his neck, but forced himself to relax. Fear clawed at the back of his throat, but he refused to give expression to it. 'These monsters live off of fear,' he reminded himself as the knife dug deep enough to bring out a single drop of blood.  
  
The Corsair frowned at the Gondorian's refusal to respond to the small amount of pain he was giving him. Removing the knife from the flesh, the leader cut one long, jagged cut down the back of Aragorn's tunic, letting it hang from his bound wrists.  
  
Aragorn's well muscled back was tanned from summer swimming and hunting, even though it was now fall. Old scars wrapped around his ribs and back to join with the newer bruises from the chain the day before.  
  
Pacing back and forth, the Corsair played with a leather thong that protruded from his belt. "Are you familiar with how we Corsairs handle slaves, Thorongil?"  
  
Aragorn did know, but he refused to say anything to this Man. His jaw knotted stubbornly as he locked eyes with Legolas. The Elf looked back, faint pain showing in his eyes, but concern outweighed the pain.  
  
"No? Then I suppose I will have to educate you," the Corsair smirked, pulling out the leather thong. Legolas, watching the Corsair leader with eyes that burned with silent anger, saw it for what it was; a whip. His eyes went very narrow. Aragorn caught the look, and guessed what was going on.  
  
Even so, shock played over his features as a line of fire drew down his back. Pain glinted in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to give voice to the pain.  
  
Irritated by the Captain's stubbornness, the Corsair flicked the lash more brutally over Aragorn's back.  
  
The cycle of lashes and stubborn silences continued for some time more, until at last the lashes were too much for the young Man and he gasped in pain at each lash. The gasp rose to a moan, and, when the Corsair was not satisfied with that, a cry of pain.  
  
The Corsair grinned, showing half-rotted teeth, as he continued to bring the lash onto the already ripped back. "You lasted longer than many others, Captain Thorongil," he admitted, pausing in his lashing for a moment.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing as the Corsair continued, "Most cry out after the first five, some survive until the first ten, then cry out. I wonder...is your Elven friend stronger or weaker than you?" With those words, the Corsair's dark eyes rose to take in Legolas.  
  
The glowing figure was obviously angry, judging by the flashing fire in his eyes and the expression of promise that he leveled on the Corsair leader. But the Corsair noted other things; the thin line of blood on the Elf's lips where he had bitten through the skin, the rivulets of blood trickling from his chaffed wrists, testifying to the silent struggles with the chains.  
  
Walking to stand in front of the Elf, the Corsair looked deep into the defiant blue eyes. He saw what the Elf was trying valiantly to hide: fear. The Elf had been in this situation far more than he liked, and though he hid it well, he was terrified.  
  
The Corsair smiled cruelly and reached to touch the Elf's bruised and bloodied lips. "You know, you'd be a real looker if you weren't so bloody," he commented, dabbling his fingers in the pooling blood and tracing Legolas' graceful lips with it.  
  
Legolas jerked away, disgust written on every line of his face. "Do not touch me," he snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. His tongue darted out instinctively, and he winced, tasting his own blood smeared all over his lips.  
  
"Don't like that, Elf?" asked the Corsair with a smirk, seeing how Legolas had responded to being touched by the Man. Deliberately cutting off the Elf's only direction to duck, he stroked his hand over the bruised cheek.  
  
Legolas' teeth snapped together behind his tight lips as he glared forward, unwilling to look at the Corsair. Being the kind of Man he was, the Corsair caught that and gripped the Elf's soft chin. Lifting the chin up sharply, he forced the young Prince to look up at him.  
  
Legolas' angry blue eyes locked angrily with the dark brown of the human's. The clash was almost audible.  
  
Aragorn saw that the situation was about to get out of hand. "Talnich, your fight is with me, not with Legolas. Leave him alone."  
  
The Corsair, now with a name, turned and sneered at Aragorn. "So you haven't had enough? Is that it?"  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened ever so slightly. He was in serious pain. Even lifting his head was almost too much of an effort.  
  
"That's what I thought," said Talnich, turning back to Legolas. "So your name is Legolas, elfling?"  
  
Legolas refused to even look at the Man.  
  
After a second of silence, Talnich gave up. He barked something in his coarse language and gestured. Apparently obeying the order, two groups of men advanced on the friends.  
  
One unhooked Legolas from the sconces and carried him, complete with his old chains re-hooked around his wrists, out the door as the other dragged Aragorn to his feet and dragged him out the same door.  
  
They were flung into the same cell again. Neither moved for a very long time, Aragorn because he hurt so badly and Legolas because he was thinking very hard. After a time, Legolas unhooked his cloak and passed it to his friend. "It gets fairly cold in here, human," he said quietly in answer to Aragorn's thankful-questioning look.  
  
Aragorn pulled the Elven cloak about his shoulders, wincing as the cloth passed over his wounds. "Thank you," he murmured, moving closer to his friend. It was colder than it had been the night before, and Legolas seemed to radiate warmth as well as light.  
  
Legolas smiled softly and put his arm around his friend, pulling him close. No more words were exchanged before they fell asleep, Legolas keeping his human friend warm throughout the night.  
  
By the time the morning rolled around, Aragorn had cuddled up to Legolas' side, trying to eke as much heat from his Elven friend as possible. Legolas woke up to the very unusual feeling of someone trying to crawl inside his skin. Lifting his head, he looked down at the very cold human. "Aragorn?" he whispered.  
  
The human shivered awake and looked up at his bemused Elven friend. "What?" he asked, grumpy from being far too cold for comfort.  
  
"Are you all right?" Legolas asked quietly, shifting so he was looking straight into his friend's eyes.  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes. "I'm cold, I'm hurting and I'm tired. No, I'm *not* all right!"  
  
Legolas chuckled, his breath hitting Aragorn in the eyes. Aragorn half- closed his eyes, wrinkling up his face. "Forgive me, mellon," the Elf replied, pulling himself to a sitting stance.  
  
Aragorn grabbed Legolas' shoulders and pulled him back down beside him. "Legolas, I am *cold*, and you are *warm*. *Stay* right here!"  
  
"Sorry," Legolas replied in a whisper.  
  
Wrapping his arms around Aragorn, Legolas did his best to send heat into his friend's body.  
  
Peace covered the silent cell for a moment, Aragorn slowly getting warmer.  
  
The peaceful moment was broken seconds later as heavy steps came down the hall. Aragorn tensed in Legolas' arms, but didn't move, still trying to get warm.  
  
The door swung open and hit the back wall with an ominous thud. Legolas propped his chin on Aragorn's shoulder and looked at the people coming through the door. Aragorn had closed his eyes, praying that they would think him asleep. It seemed to work, for the moment.  
  
The men that entered looked at the two friends with something akin to bemusement. They noted to each other that the Elf was wearing naught but a light tunic, leggings and jerkin, yet he appeared to be unaffected by the cold that made even the Corsairs shiver.  
  
Conversely, the Captain of Gondor was wrapped in a cloak, an overcoat and the Elf's arms, yet even in his sleep he was shivering.  
  
After a moment of discussion in the rough language that made Legolas' ears tingle, the Corsairs came forward and tried to pry Legolas' hands away from Aragorn. Legolas bared all his teeth in a fierce grin as he clung to his friend. After a couple tries like that, the men backed away, apparently surprised by the Elf's strength.  
  
"Did you not know the legends of the strength of the Elves?" Legolas asked, not really expecting an answer.  
  
So he was shocked when one Man said in heavily accented, but understandable Common, "I had heard stories, but I never listen to legends."  
  
Legolas' mouth fell open slightly, though he didn't give up his hold on the human. He hadn't expected any answer from the Corsairs. "Most legends have a grain of truth at their base," he remarked once he had gotten his breath back.  
  
"Bah," the Man waved off the idea. "Most legends get extremely overblown by the time they reach us. For example, I had heard that Elves don't feel cold, they can walk on snow, and they shoot fire from their eyes."  
  
Legolas smiled grimly. "We can walk on snow and we do not feel extreme cold or extreme heat. And I believe you know by now that I cannot shoot fire out of my eyes, though at times I wish I could."  
  
The Corsair laughed. Legolas winced; the laugh sounded like glass being dragged over gravel.  
  
One of the men stepped forward and spoke urgently to the Man Legolas was talking to. Legolas wished he understood the strange language, but right now he was content not knowing.  
  
The Corsair waved the other off abruptly, and Legolas guessed he was an officer of some sort from his manner.  
  
"My underling was just reminding me that our leader called for you to be brought before him again." The Corsair explained, seeing mild curiosity in Legolas' cool eyes.  
  
Legolas felt Aragorn tense slightly in his arms, and Legolas fully agreed. As much as he hated the dark and the cave, he preferred it to being in that room, under the control of Talnich.  
  
"But I have decided I rather like it that you are resisting. I only hope our leader makes the right choice," continued the Corsair, bending to touch Legolas' fair, silky hair.  
  
Legolas bore it, but only because abrupt movement would hurt the already aching Man in his arms. "Choice? What choice?" Legolas asked, trying to move his head to where the Man couldn't touch him.  
  
"You truly don't know?" asked the Corsair, crouching beside the Elf. "There are three levels of discipline that we employ on slaves. First is getting a good knocking about, a few bruises, perhaps a broken bone or two. Second is the lash. Third..." he grinned, revealing rotting teeth.  
  
When the Man didn't continue, Legolas asked, his heart sinking, "Yes? What is the third?"  
  
"The slave or slaves in question get turned over to us, for our use." The Man's eyes glinted, as he looked Legolas over.  
  
It took a few moments, but Legolas and Aragorn realized what the Man meant. Fear shone brightly in Legolas' eyes, and Aragorn went very stiff in Legolas' arms.  
  
The Corsair grinned, seeing the fear in Legolas' eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two alone, for now."  
  
He got to his feet and walked out the door with a barked order. The other men filed out behind him, closing the door with an echoing thud.  
  
The friends remained prone and silent for a long moment, though Aragorn opened his eyes when the door slammed shut. At last, Legolas let out a long sigh and rested his chin against Aragorn's shoulder. "This does not look good, mellon," he said quietly, his breath clearly visible in the frigid air.  
  
"That's the understatement of the Age," Aragorn grumbled, scooting closer to Legolas, if that was even possible. "What do we do now?"  
  
Legolas was silent for a very long moment; Aragorn could almost hear the wheels turning in his friend's head. At last, Legolas let out a long breath, almost a sigh, and his proud shoulders slumped slightly. "In truth, Estel, I can see very few options. Making a break for it would be well nigh impossible; we do not know the way out. The Corsair spoke of a choice; does that mean only one will be chosen?"  
  
"If there is only to be one, Legolas, let it be me," Aragorn said quietly. He knew what happened to Elves in that sort of situation.  
  
Legolas' protest was instantaneous. "Nay Estel! It shall be me; I am more resistant to physical pain, and you are already wounded."  
  
Aragorn sat up, breaking out of Legolas' warm hug. "Legolas, if it is you, you'll die. You know that as well as I do." His tone was quietly intense.  
  
"And if it is you, you will be the one dead, Estel. These men are not gentle in any way, shape or form. You have a destiny to fulfill." Legolas sat up as well, meeting his friend's stormy eyes.  
  
"And you do not?" demanded Aragorn, gripping his friend's arm. "You are the Prince of Mirkwood, your father's only child. Think of how it would kill him to lose you!"  
  
"And you, Estel? You are the heir of Isildur, the foretold king of both Gondor and Arnor. That is the hope of men, and greater than being a Prince, or even a king, of a fading people in a fading land." Legolas freed his arm carefully. "But let us not talk about this now," he added quietly. "If the choice comes, we will decide it then. For now, it is better for us to rest."  
  
Aragorn sighed; he hated it when Legolas was right. He lay back down and Legolas enfolded him in his warm embrace again. Breathing in tandem, the friends fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
  
Several days passed in almost silence from the Corsairs, save for the ones who brought them half-molded food. Aragorn was ravenous and ate everything given to him, but even the sight of that food disgusted Legolas. He gave his share to Aragorn, who nearly refused it until Legolas reminded him that Elves could go a long time without food.  
  
The best Legolas could reckon without light, three days had passed before the door slamming open interrupted their meal of rotten food. Legolas glanced up from the small braid of frayed threads he was creating and frowned as he recognized the burly man who had sat on the throne earlier standing in the door, several dozen men behind him.  
  
Aragorn set down the bread he had been gnawing on and stood up, Legolas standing a heartbeat afterwards. "What an unexpected pleasure," Aragorn commented, hooking his bound hands in front of himself. "I never guessed you were able to move anymore." Days of rest and Legolas' tender ministrations had done wonders for Aragorn's back, and he was back to his quietly arrogant normal self. Sarcasm had returned as well.  
  
The man backhanded Aragorn firmly, knocking him into Legolas. The Elf caught his friend and steadied him until he was able to keep his feet. "I will not mince words with you, Thorongil. I am displeased that I must come and help my men force you to obey, and being on the other side of my displeasure is not a safe place to be. I will give both of you a choice." His glance included Legolas, who was glaring at him. "Either both of you will comply with my men and me this instant, or one of you will pay the price."  
  
"You should know this by now." Aragorn's voice was quiet. "We do not comply with pirates. Ever."  
  
"Then you must choose who will pay the price." His gaze lingered on Legolas for an instant.  
  
Aragorn was about to surrender himself, but Legolas stepped forward. "Me. I will pay the price."  
  
The whole room was struck silent for an instant. Aragorn stared at Legolas. "No," he whispered. "Legolas, you can't do this."  
  
Switching to the Grey Tongue, Legolas faced his friend and said, "It is my choice, Strider, and I have made it. I would sooner be hung by the hair in Angband than to see you go through what they have in mind."  
  
Before Aragorn could protest, Talnich laughed throatily. "I had rather hoped it'd be you, Elf. Take him!"  
  
The other men behind him rushed forward and grabbed Legolas. They bore him out of the room, nearly cutting off his view of Aragorn. The friends exchanged a look more potent than words in the half-second they had, and Aragorn could see the abject terror in his friend's eyes, but also the quiet strength that sustained him through many things. Then he was gone and the door closed behind them with a slam.  
  
Aragorn just stood there a second, unable to comprehend what had just happened. "No." he whispered. After a heartbeat, he shouted, "No! Legolas! Legolas!"  
  
As the Men manhandled the Elf down the hall, Legolas heard his friend's shout and closed his eyes, biting back tears. He was scared spitless. He knew what was going to happen to him; he knew the cost. But he also knew that if he didn't do this, Aragorn would be the one to receive the brunt of their anger. 'Peace, Aragorn,' he thought. 'This is what must be.'  
  
((A/N 2: Yes, I know. Evil place to leave you. Fun, hm? Anyway, I thought this'd be a nice place to respond to my reviewers (I love y'all!)  
  
Effigy: Thanks for your kind encouragement! I will most definitely keep going.  
  
Elfmage: No, no slash. I promise. I hate the stuff myself. Though, do keep in mind this is rated R for implied rape...as you can see at the end of this chapter. If that makes you squeamish, for your own sake stop reading here and now.  
  
Elf-Angst...first time I've actually heard it called that. But, put Legolas and a cave together...not a nice combo for him, but invaluable to the author.  
  
This is actually the first chapter fic I've ever tried writing. Very nerve- wracking, not knowing if I've put the breaks in the good spots. Encouragement will be kept for the warm fuzzy feeling it gives.  
  
mIzXxXmALfoY: Thanks so much! Reassurances make me feel fuzzy and warm inside!  
  
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: Hurrah! More Mellon Chronicles fans! The references are partly intentional, partly not. Cassia and Sio have so defined my perspective of this friendship that, intentional or not, that's how I think of them. It could be worse, I guess...I could have that friendship defined by the slash writers. *shivers*))  
  
Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter...and reviews make me post faster! 


	3. Fading

((A/N 1: Well, here we are again. This chapter marks roughly the halfway point...and possibly the most tear-inducing part. If you cry easily at stories, get some Kleenex now. We'll wait for you.  
  
Back? Ok, here goes.))  
  
________________________________________________  
Chapter Three  
  
Aragorn continued shouting until he could no longer hear the receding footsteps and his voice was raw. He backed up until his back hit the wall hard, then slid down the wall, jamming his knees into his eye sockets. "Why, Legolas?" he whispered, a sob choking his voice. Hot tears poured from his eyes, soaking his breeches.  
  
Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, but after a time, Aragorn stood up and wandered aimlessly around the cell. He couldn't see anymore; the only source of light had left. Carefully, he found the wall after a moment's searching and winced as his raw hands contacted cool stone.  
  
He slammed his fist against the wall, bitter desperation eating at his heart. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe his friend was taking the fall for him like this... not when they all knew what it would cost. It would cost Legolas his life, or, if by some miracle he didn't die, he would have that shame on him forever. And for what? A human. A mortal that would die someday.  
  
"Forgive me, Legolas," he whispered. "I should have never come back to Gondor. This is all my fault, and you have every right in the world to hate me."  
  
Slumping against the wall, he sat motionless for hours, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his hitched breathing echoing in the cell.  
  
He must have fallen asleep like that, for the next thing he knew, the door was swinging open and a Man with a torch entered. He was completely alone, which scared Aragorn more than he wanted to admit. The Man pointed at Aragorn and grunted a few words in his language. Aragorn shook his head, saying slowly, "I am sorry, but I cannot understand."  
  
The Man sighed and said in labored Common, "You wish to see Elf? Come with me." Aragorn was on his feet in a heartbeat. He said nothing, but his determined features informed the other Man that Thorongil most definitely wanted to be with the Elf.  
  
They walked down a long hallway and turned into an even darker area. At the end of that cul-de-sac was a single door. The Man with the torch opened that door, and Aragorn entered, ducking his head to avoid the low lintel.  
  
The first thing that he noticed was that there was no light at all, and he turned back slightly. "Where is Legolas?"  
  
"He there, Gondor man. Look harder." With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Aragorn in complete blackness again.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes for a second, forcing his eyes to readjust to darkness before he opened them again. At first, he couldn't see anything, and he wondered if the Corsair had been lying to him, for surely he should have seen Legolas' glow by now. Then he heard a muffled sob.  
  
Aragorn dashed for the source of the sob. As he came closer, his foot caught on something soft and warm and he fell against Legolas. The Elf let out a cry of pain, moving away from Aragorn as fast as he could.  
  
Aragorn recovered his balance and crouched down, looking for his friend. He could now see the faintest of glows. It was enough.  
  
In the glow, he could see Legolas huddled into the corner, curled up into the tiniest ball he could manage. Aragorn's heart went out to the Prince; the proud Elf looked more like a child then than he ever had, even when he was afraid of the dark and the cave. Aragorn saw the bruises on the slender arms that hid the fair face, and his eyes traced Legolas' sides, noting the many other bruises and cuts that marred the fair body. Legolas wore only the chains that hampered his hiding attempts, and a thin trickle of blood that oozed from where the Elf sat was barely visible in the glimmer.  
  
A long silence stretched over the friends, Legolas tenser than a bowstring and Aragorn waiting. After a long moment, Legolas said, his voice harsh, "What you are here to do, do it, but for the Valar's sake, do not toy with me."  
  
"Legolas, it is Estel!" Aragorn said, moving closer to his friend.  
  
"Estel?" Legolas' voice quivered as he lifted his eyes a tiny bit. Aragorn was shocked by the fear and despair that marked the once strong and cheerful blue depths. As if shamed by his friend's presence, Legolas dropped his eyes again with a sob.  
  
Aragorn removed the cloak he had borrowed from Legolas and his own overcoat and quickly draped them over Legolas' thin, shaking shoulders. Legolas flinched at the gentle touch, but accepted the warm garments, tucking them close to himself.  
  
Aragorn sat down beside his friend with a sigh. He hoped Legolas would be all right, but there was no way to be sure...yet.  
  
Time ticked by slowly, marked by the echoing breaths taken by both friends. At first, Aragorn was too caught up in his thoughts to notice, but as time went on, it became far more noticeable that Legolas' breathing was getting softer and softer. Aragorn squinted at Legolas, but the Elf's light was so dim now that the Ranger could see nothing unusual.  
  
Aragorn wished he had more light. Even a *candle*...He jerked upright, remembering something. Calling himself ten times a fool, he moved quickly to Legolas' side and began digging in the pockets of the overcoat Legolas now wore. The Elf jerked away from Aragorn's hands. Startled, Aragorn looked at Legolas...and realized why as he saw Legolas' wide eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas, but I need something from one of the pockets," he explained quietly, resting his hands on his thighs as he crouched before Legolas. Legolas glanced at him briefly, though he didn't meet the Human's eyes, then nodded.  
  
Aragorn dug in first the left pocket, then the right. After a few moments of searching, he came out at last with a candle the length of his hand, a flint stone and a small knife. Carefully working the flint and knife, he lit the candle and held it close to Legolas. In the brighter light of the candle, Aragorn could see the Elf plainly...and what he saw froze his bones straight to the marrow.  
  
Legolas' skin was a sickly pale hue, and his eyes seemed dull and inert, as if the life had simply been drained from them. His normally proud shoulders were stooped, and they rose and fell with hardly noticeable raggedness as his breath came in silent, shallow gasps. His hands, clasped together in his lap, shook slightly, as if the Elf was cold, or afraid. Realizing what was happening, Aragorn looked his friend in the eyes.  
  
"Legolas, you're fading," he whispered, his voice cracking.  
  
Legolas just nodded. "I know." His voice shook. For all that he was prepared to do this for Aragorn's sake, he was still afraid to die like this, wasting away slowly in a dark corner instead of dying gloriously in battle.  
  
Aragorn watched his friend helplessly. He set the candle to the side and carefully reached out to touch his friend's shoulder. As if the touch was a signal to Legolas' failing body, the Elf slumped. Aragorn was just barely able to catch his friend and cradle his overly slender body in his arms.  
  
"No, Legolas! You can't go!" Aragorn's voice cracked with pain as he held his friend's battered body.  
  
The grinding sound in Legolas' throat was supposed to be laughter. "Lord Elrond named you well, Estel. But I cannot stay. You know this."  
  
"I know nothing save that if you go, I will not be far behind," Aragorn muttered rebelliously.  
  
Legolas smiled, and that smile transcended the bruises and cuts on his fair face, calling to mind the beauty of Valinor, the joy of the young, yet also the wisdom and weariness of an old warrior. "I will miss this the most, I think," he whispered, his strength fast ebbing. His eyes flickered up, meeting Aragorn's for the first time. "Your wild impetuousness, your sarcasm and your tenacity. I am honored to have been your friend, Aragorn son of Arathorn." His eyelids fluttered downwards, then up again as the Elf took one more rattling, struggling breath. "Namárië." His voice was the barest thread of a whisper.  
  
Before Aragorn could say anymore, Legolas went limp in his arms, his beautiful eyes closed and his chest still.  
  
"NO!!" The sound burst from Aragorn's throat, changing from a word to a wordless, animal cry of pain. His voice, trained on a battlefield, shook the underground fortress of the Corsairs, permeating every room with the sound of a breaking heart. Everyone heard it, from Talnich on his bone throne to the huddling little man not far from the friends, and all wondered what caused such anguish.  
  
The cry only stopped when Aragorn ran out of breath, and he bent over his friend, hot tears pouring down his face.  
  
"Legolas, please..." he whispered, shaking the still-warm body in his arms. "Don't go. It's not your time."  
  
But even as he watched, the remaining color in Legolas' face vanished and his flesh lost its warmth until Aragorn felt he was holding naught but a wax sculpture of his friend.  
  
"Legolas..." Aragorn whispered, bending closer to his friend until his scraggly hair brushed Legolas' still chest. "Please..." He couldn't even articulate the words anymore; the lump in his throat stole all speech.  
  
"Ilúvatar!" he cried, fighting past the lump to appeal to the Creator, the only one who could turn things around now. "Ilúvatar, please! Let him come back!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Beyond the pain, beyond sight and beyond sound, Legolas floated in a sea of darkness. The darkness enveloped him, covered him, and secured him in its warm embrace. There, Legolas found peace, and he was content. He was happy to be without pain for the first time in days, happy to leave shame behind him. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't stay here forever, but that didn't stop him from wishing.  
  
Slowly at first, so slowly that Legolas didn't see any difference for some time, then faster as time progressed, a light penetrated the darkness, reaching its fingers of light toward the prone Elf. When the first finger touched him, Legolas heard a whisper that was bigger than any shout he had ever heard. "Legolas." The voice was so full of love that Legolas felt tears spark in his eyes.  
  
"Ilúvatar?" he asked, squirming so all of his being was in contact with the pure light.  
  
"Yes, my child. You have a choice to make."  
  
Legolas sighed and closed his glowing eyes. He had known from the moment he had slipped into the dark realm that he had a choice to make; he had just wanted to put the choice off for as long as possible.  
  
Ilúvatar's voice continued, "Your friend begs me for your return, but the choice is ultimately yours."  
  
Choose? Choose between blinding pain and forever peace? Choose between eternal beauty and temporal things? The chance to see his mother who had left these shores long ago again, or returning to the few friends he had? There was really no choice, and Legolas was about to tell Ilúvatar that he chose to leave...when another voice penetrated the darkness.  
  
Still in the cell, Aragorn rocked back and forth, still holding Legolas and singing softly. The tune was supposed to be merry, but Aragorn's voice cracked so many times that the overall effect was heartbreaking pain.  
  
Legolas listened to the song, recognizing it for what it was...and a small smile crept over his face.  
  
A memory surfaced in the darkness; a memory of a warm summer afternoon spent lazily by the Bruinen River, of laughter and teasing, of playful fighting. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir helping him dunk Aragorn again and again until the Man could barely breathe through his laughter and sputtering. He remembered later that evening, sitting beside the warm fire in Rivendell's Hall of Fire, teaching the Noldor Elves and the young Human a feasting song of Mirkwood.  
  
That was the song now echoing eerily through the darkness, and Legolas remembered the reasons he had to live. He remembered his father, strong, noble King of Mirkwood who loved his son very much, remembered Lord Elrond, a comfort in times of peril and a handy shoulder to lean on. He remembered Raniean and Trelan, how different they were, yet how inseparable. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir, identical in face, yet so very different in temperament and nature, and how very much they loved each other.  
  
And he remembered the owner of the voice that now sang brokenly to him. He remembered helping Aragorn learn how to shoot a bow properly and with some measure of accuracy, remembered how Aragorn had always been there for him when he needed it, remembered Aragorn's fierce defense every time there had been a battle.  
  
In that time of remembering, Legolas made his decision.  
  
((A/N 2: Sorry for how short this chapter is! In following the glorious tradition Cassia and Sio started, I tried to break the chapters where a 'cliffie' is. Unfortunately, that's right here. So, anyway...reviewer responses...and may I say I am quite pleasantly surprised with all the positive responses?  
  
Elfmage: I'm so glad implied rape doesn't bother you! I was afraid I was going to lose one of my best reviewers because of that! Yeah, I figured, thanks to the Mellon Chronicles, that both of them hate the thought of the other getting hurt because of them. It's kinda weird, but it makes for interesting dialogue. One of the things that is always hard for me is the level of description. I'm never sure if I'm rushing the scene too much, or adding too much description...but I'm glad the dungeon was vivid for you. LOL...I found myself shivering while I was writing about how cold Aragorn was. BTW, I'm honored that my humble story found its way onto your favorites list. I hope you continue enjoying!  
  
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: I hate slash myself. I used to read a lot of it...until I pulled back and realized just how stupid most of them were. Most of them were, 'I just met you, you're so hot, let's go to bed.' Plus, Aragorn/Legolas, as you said, completely condradictes Tolkien's beautiful romance story. I decided against truly remembering the events of Captive of Darkness, though there will be more MC references as time goes on. My reasoning: If Legolas already went through something similar to this, why is he dying now?  
  
Kenobisaqt: Welcome to the panel of reviewers! I'm glad you enjoy the story so far...and I hope you'll continue enjoying it.  
  
Fate Vione: Wow...I'm truly honored. I know how hard it is to read a story without skipping...I'm a bit of a skim-reader, personally. Again, welcome to the review panel!  
  
Robinyj: Yeah, one of the hardest things for me was creating a plot that, 1. Hadn't been done before and 2. Was somewhat realistic and fun to write. Underground wasn't all that fun...I think I have something Elvish in my blood, as I hate caves and cramped, dark places...but it was perfect for what elfmage terms Elf Angst. Welcome to the review panel...and maybe you could explain what you mean when you say I may have taken the dialogue a bit far sometimes?  
  
LadyJanelly: Actually, the Corsairs were just looking for an excuse--any excuse--to hurt and humiliate Aragorn. The fact that Legolas stepped into Aragorn's place only made the pot sweeter. The plain fact is; if you hurt Legolas, you hurt Aragorn in a far more personal way. Aragorn's used to pain and torment on his own behalf, but seeing Legolas have to go through that hurts him in a way that doesn't heal easy. Anyway, welcome to the review panel...and I hope you continue enjoying the story. 


	4. Run!

((A/N 1: And, after much anticipation, here is the chapter where the eternal question is answered: Will Legolas chose to return? Enjoy!))  
  
_____________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Aragorn's voice petered away to nothingness as his sobs overcame him. Hot tears poured from under his closed eyelids to fall on Legolas' motionless, cold chest, splashing and spattering all over the porcelain skin.  
  
At first, he thought his grief was causing him to hallucinate, and he shook his bowed head, unwilling to let his hopes rise again. But as time ticked slowly onward, the white skin under his hands grew steadily warmer.  
  
Aragorn lifted his head to stare in disbelief at his friend's body...just as the Elf took a deep, quivering breath and opened his eyes slowly, as if pine resin gummed his eyelids together. The blue eyes were tired when they met Aragorn's, but life shone in them brightly.  
  
The cell grew steadily brighter and brighter as Legolas took several deep breaths and regained strength, color flooding back into his features.  
  
"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice cracked as he struggled to believe what he had just seen.  
  
"I could not go, Estel," Legolas' voice was tired, but it was there. A wry smile tugged the corners of his mouth as he continued, "You have the words and tune to that song all wrong."  
  
Aragorn laughed shakily, mopping at his eyes with his shoulder. "Is that the fault of the teacher or the student?" he asked, joining in the teasing.  
  
Legolas managed to look offended while smiling. "I have no idea, Human, but we will work on that when we get out."  
  
When, not if, noted Aragorn, and he realized that Legolas had received a fresh dose of hope while his body lay dead. His own hopes lifted timidly in response to Legolas' hope; nay, in response to the solid conviction in his eyes.  
  
Legolas noticed the Man shiver and smiled. Carefully, he pulled himself to a sitting position, breaking out of Aragorn's arms, and removed the coat Aragorn had draped over the Elf's own cloak. Moving to lean against the wall, Legolas handed the coat to Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn gratefully took the coat, wrapping it about his bare torso. "Thanks," he murmured, reaching out to steady the Elf as he slid along the wall.  
  
Legolas wrapped an arm around his abdomen with a grimace as his stomach reminded him that he needed food, and soon.  
  
Aragorn heard Legolas' stomach growl all the way from where he sat and he chuckled. "Hungry now, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas looked up from underneath his dark eyebrows with a darker look. "Very hungry, Human. I suppose you already took care of that rotten food they deigned to give us?"  
  
Aragorn scowled into the stubble decorating his chin. "Unfortunately, yes." A memory suddenly struck the ranger and he fumbled in the pockets of his coat. "Wait a moment..." he mumbled, reaching into an inner pocket.  
  
After a moment, Legolas asked, "Am I still waiting?"  
  
"Har, har," Aragorn muttered, finding what he sought just as Legolas said that. "Here," he said, offering the Prince an oiled packet.  
  
"What is it?" asked Legolas, taking the packet gingerly and turning it over in his long fingers, looking for the opening.  
  
"Ranger waybread," Aragorn explained off-handedly, trying not to stare hungrily at it as Legolas found the opening and unwrapped it. The bread was stale and broken, but to the hungry Elf and Ranger, it appeared to be a feast. "It's not dissimilar from lembas, only made by Humans. I'd forgotten about it until just this moment."  
  
Legolas took several of the pieces and shoved them in his mouth with the disgrace of the starving. Aragorn chuckled, forcing his eyes away from the waybread.  
  
Legolas forced his jaws closed, wincing as the stale edges cut his gums a bit, but he continued chewing until the waybread was mush in his mouth. As he swallowed, he noticed Aragorn's slightly longing gaze in the direction of the packet in Legolas' hand.  
  
The Elf followed the Man's glance and realized that, while the ranger *had* eaten everything the friends had been given, it wouldn't be the type of food that would fill, and Aragorn hadn't eaten in hours.  
  
Carefully balancing the broken pieces, Legolas divided the waybread into two equal parts and handed a half to Aragorn. "Eat up, young one," he said with a grin.  
  
Aragorn took the food quickly, not even considering refusal, and shoved a good portion of it into his mouth, chewing quickly.  
  
A silence fell over the friends, only broken by chewing and swallowing sounds. Aragorn finished his food and leaned back against the wall with a contented sigh.  
  
Legolas chuckled, the sound echoing. "Are you tired, Estel?" The Elf asked quietly, extending an arm toward the Human.  
  
Aragorn looked at the Elf, his eyelids shuttling up and down. "Very," he admitted, wrapping the coat tighter about himself. Moving slightly, he rested his head against Legolas' shoulder and felt the Elf tuck an arm around him.  
  
Aragorn was not quite asleep when he felt Legolas stiffen beside him. "What is it?" Aragorn almost asked...when he heard it too: soft, stealthy footsteps creeping ever closer to the friends.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged confused glances. Before, the Corsairs had always come with loud stomps and coarse shouts. It was almost as if the one in the corridor, for Legolas' ears confirmed that it was only one, did not want to be heard by any.  
  
A key slid into the lock, then turned and the door slowly swung open to reveal...the small Man who had brought Aragorn to Legolas. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Legolas noted briefly that two wrapped bundles rested on the Man's back, and he wondered idly what was in them.  
  
Aragorn shot to his feet, bracing one hand on Legolas' shoulder. "What do you want?" he snapped, fire raging in his eyes.  
  
"Please, Captain," the man said, looking pleadingly from Legolas, still seated on the floor, to Aragorn glaring at him. "Just listen to me." The accent that had so troubled Aragorn's comprehension hours before had vanished, leaving the faint, but distinct accent of a Man of Gondor.  
  
Aragorn frowned, puzzled, but he said quietly, "Speak."  
  
"I am Talagan," the man said, bowing awkwardly towards the friends. "I am, as you may have guessed from my accent, a Man of Gondor. I was captured by the Corsairs nigh on ten years ago, and have managed to work my way upwards in their confidences. They have not killed me because they truly believe I am trustworthy."  
  
"And are you?" Legolas asked cuttingly, meeting the Man's eyes.  
  
Talagan hesitated for the merest fraction of a second before he said, "I have seen many Men broken by the Corsairs; I have become almost callous to it. But when they bring one of the Firstborn," he inclined his head toward Legolas, who acknowledged that with a nod, "and a former Captain of Gondor here, I cannot sit by idly. I knew some Elves when I was a young man, and they impressed me. I want to help you. Will you trust me?"  
  
Legolas let out a tiny sigh as he looked up at Aragorn. The younger Human dropped into a crouch beside his friend and asked in quiet Elvish, "What do you think?"  
  
Legolas was silent for a moment, his blue eyes thoughtful. At last he answered in the same language, "It is a risk, to be sure, but I would sooner trust this man than the mercies of Talnich." He spoke the name as the curse it was.  
  
Aragorn nodded in quiet agreement. "In this case, better the friend we do not know than the enemy we do?" he asked, his tone lightly teasing.  
  
"Tîr," Legolas replied with a smile. /Right/.  
  
"Very well," Aragorn said in Common. Turning to Talagan, the ranger said calmly, "We will trust you. But if we even so much as smell betrayal, we will not be the ones paying the price, understood?"  
  
"Perfectly," Talagan replied, digging in a belt purse. Pulling out a key, he tossed it to Aragorn. "That key opens the fetters. No offense, but I'm sure Legolas would rather it be you touching him than me."  
  
Legolas smiled grimly as Aragorn turned and began fiddling with his Elven friend's chains. "You know he is correct," Aragorn whispered evilly in Elvish.  
  
"Of course he is," Legolas replied, unruffled. "I trust you. I am not sure about this one yet."  
  
Aragorn didn't bother answering, deciding his energy was better directed towards getting the ugly chains off his friend's slender wrists quickly. Within moments, the chains fell free of Legolas' hands, and the Elf groaned softly as he rubbed feeling back into his chaffed wrists. Aragorn began working on the ankle fetters.  
  
Moments later, Legolas was in possession of the key and working on Aragorn's chains.  
  
Talagan was not idle during this time. He removed the bundles from his back carefully, acting as if whatever was inside was more precious than gold. Unwrapping one, he revealed a long black object, a smaller one bristling with feathers and a bundle of fabric.  
  
Legolas dropped the discarded chains with a look of nausea on his fair face and looked at Talagan. His eyes were drawn to the long black object and his eyes went wide. "My bow!" he cried, diving for it.  
  
Talagan got out of the Elf's way quickly, letting him grab the prized object and hold it. If the small Man hadn't known better, he would have sworn he saw tears in the regal Elf's eyes, but he dismissed that thought as ridiculous quickly as he unwrapped the other bundle, revealing Aragorn's sword.  
  
"Your sword, Captain," he said quietly, extending the weapon toward the other man.  
  
Aragorn took it, relief and joy on his face as he buckled the belt about his waist. "I have felt naked without it," he confessed quietly, running his fingers over the hilt.  
  
"Speaking of which..." Talagan picked up the bundle of fabric. "Legolas, I was only able to locate your leggings. Your other clothing was destroyed, and I felt weapons were more important to carry to you."  
  
"You judged aright," Legolas replied, strapping the quiver's straps to his bare chest and accepting the leggings. "I fear that without weapons we will not get far. We can live without clothing." A couple deft motions, and the Elf was clothed in his leggings.  
  
Talagan waited until both friends were ready. "Let's go," he whispered, turning to lead the way out of the cell.  
  
"Wait." The word was not a suggestion; rather, it was an order spoken regally by Legolas. Talagan turned to look at the Elf, a question in his eyes. "Talagan, you should not lead us. They will kill you if they ever find out."  
  
"That would be true...if I stayed with them. But I will not stay with them, not knowing what atrocities they are capable of." His brown eyes glanced at Legolas guiltily, and the Elf understood. "Nay, I shall make my way back to Gondor and hopefully find a place under Lord Ecthelion."  
  
"So be it," Legolas replied. "Lead the way."  
  
Silent as wraiths, the trio set out, Talagan at the head, Aragorn behind him and Legolas bringing up the rear, his bow ready.  
  
Talagan knew all the secret paths through the stronghold, all the ways that took them away from the main passageways of people. It was a very good thing in one respect, but bad in another. Good, because the weary friends did not wish to have to fight right now, but bad because the paths took them deeper into the earth, and they wound more than the normal paths. Plus, they couldn't risk Legolas' light or the light of a torch, so they traveled in near dark, which did nothing for Legolas' nerves.  
  
After some time, Aragorn moved back and pushed Legolas gently ahead of him. "What are you doing, mellon?" Legolas asked quietly, resisting the push.  
  
"I am ensuring that you are not left behind or panic alone." Aragorn replied softly, resting a hand on the slender shoulder.  
  
Sighing, Legolas submitted and moved ahead of Aragorn. "Where will this path lead us, Talagan?" the Elf asked quietly, trying to distract himself.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure, Legolas. All I know is that this is a way out. No one ever told me where exactly it leads." Talagan's disembodied voice floated from before Legolas.  
  
"Wonderful," Legolas murmured to himself.  
  
Time tracked onwards, leading the trio further and further along. Legolas had just begun to wonder if he would go insane down there when he heard it: voices and footsteps...coming straight for them.  
  
"Strider!" he hissed. "Men approach!"  
  
Aragorn tensed, drawing his sword. "I will not be taken again," he whispered harshly, readying himself. "Legolas, some light would be helpful."  
  
Legolas nodded and gripped his daggers, waiting for the attackers to come closer. When the men were less than a bowshot away, Legolas let his natural light flood from his body. The men shouted in surprise and drew their swords quickly, not sure what was before them.  
  
Recovering their senses quickly, the Corsair men attacked the trio. Legolas and Aragorn moved into their normal fighting stance, back to back to the other, with one small difference: they kept Talagan between them, as the small Man did not have a weapon, and the friends still needed to find their way out.  
  
The battle was ruthlessly short, leaving piles of dead Corsairs and the friends with small wounds, easily ignored.  
  
Talagan recovered his wits quickly and hissed, "Let's go! Others will have heard that and will follow us!"  
  
Legolas' ears confirmed what the Man said and he dashed forward, Aragorn right beside him. Stealth was set aside for speed, and Talagan marveled how fast the friends could run when pressed.  
  
Skidding around a corner, Talagan stopped at a box on the wall. He opened it quickly and yanked on the lever inside. His strength was insufficient to trip the lever, so he turned to Legolas. "Master Elf, could you help me?"  
  
Legolas looked at the lever for a second, then wrapped his right hand around it and yanked with all his strength, tearing the lever off after tripping it. An ominous rumbling sound came from above him, and the Elf looked up, the lever still in his hand.  
  
"RUN!" Talagan shouted. "The roof is caving in!"  
  
Too late.  
  
((A/N: *evil grin* This'll make a great science fair experiment: how many evil cliffies can reviewers take before keeling over from a heart attack? Cookies as consolation to all my wonderful reviewers *hands them out*. And, that said, here's my reviewer responses.  
  
Twilight_Haven: *deep bow* I thank you kindly for your kind words. Don't worry about the creativity...this plot bunny wouldn't let me go until I'd finished this.  
  
Elfmage: But cliffies are such fun! *makes a note to print and frame Elfmage's review...first ever cliffie complaint!*  
  
Yes, you are one of my best ever reviewers, and I'm not ashamed to say so. Reading your reviews is always a high point of every chapter. If you really think this deserves to be spread abroad, you go right ahead and advertise for it. I'd be honored to see more people read it.  
  
Seriously, I was crying at the point where Aragorn was wondering why Legolas would give up his life for him. He sounded so lost when he thought that in my mind...*grabs a Kleenex*. The language barrier is one of my favorite pet peeves about much of fanfic. Either the author makes it so everyone can speak every language fluently (disregarding the fact that the Black Speech makes Elves ill to even hear spoken), or they have a spell the hero can cast to make every language understandable.  
  
Hurrah! The effect of being without words was precisely what I was striving for! It's *nice* to know I've succeeded.  
  
This response is starting to look like another chapter in its own right, so I'll move on now...btw, the long wait was to prove that I can and do let people hang on an evil cliffie.  
  
mIzXxXmALfoY: I know exactly what you mean. No one, and I mean no one, especially not an Elf, can bounce right back from being raped. No way, no how. I did a bit of research for this particular story, talking to people who were raped when they were younger. Most didn't want to even remember it, but the few who did talk to me told me that they didn't let anyone near them for weeks, even months afterward, and that was only when they had told others. A couple people didn't tell anyone else for years. How can you? For myself, if that ever happened, I think I'd probably crawl into a deep hole and sleep for years. A good book, btw, about this sort of thing, is Speak. I forget the authoress at the moment, but it's incredible.  
  
silvertoekee: Yes, this was the saddest chapter...and the hardest...to write. *little smile* And wouldn't you just love to know what happens to poor Legolas now? I don't think I've seen you review before. Welcome to the review panel!  
  
Well, that wraps it up for this chapter. Reviews make me post faster...unless it's a massive cliffie and I *want* you to be anticipating for a long time. *evil grin...and runs as reviewers chuck things at her*)) 


	5. Safety

((A/N 1: Next chapter! I'm so evil...how do y'all put up with me?))  
  
Chapter Five  
  
The roof fell loose with a roar. Legolas managed to jump back in time to avoid the main onslaught, but a large stone struck him in the back, knocking him to the floor and pinning him.  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted, ignoring Talagan's warning and running back to his friend.  
  
Legolas fought with the confines, struggling to breathe through the dust. A muted cry of pain escaped him as several rocks landed on his legs, cutting him deeply.  
  
Aragorn reached him and began working frantically to pry his friend loose. "Easy, Legolas," he said, gripping his friend's flailing arm. "Calm down."  
  
"Easy...for...you...to...say," Legolas gasped sarcastically, but he calmed down slightly. Aragorn gripped the stones that pinned his friend down and flung them away from the Prince.  
  
Legolas' eyes grew wider as his air ran out. "Go," he mouthed to Aragorn.  
  
"Not a chance," Aragorn grunted, trying to move the rock on Legolas' back. His efforts only made it shift and settle more firmly on Legolas. The Elf felt iron bands clamp his chest, and he realized that at least one rib was cracked, maybe even broken.  
  
Realizing he didn't have a lot of time left, Aragorn grabbed Legolas' hands and pulled with all his strength. Legolas helped as he could, though he felt unconsciousness struggling to take him.  
  
'No,' Legolas thought grimly. 'I did not come back from comfortable darkness to die like this.' This in mind, the Elf twisted and slid free, though he got badly scraped up in the process.  
  
Talagan allowed the friends a moment to catch their collective breath, then he urged, "Come on!"  
  
Legolas, gasping for air, struggled to his feet, Aragorn supporting him. Together, they kept going onward.  
  
Maybe ten minutes later, though it felt like longer, the smell of fresh air hit Legolas' nose like a battering ram. "Ah!" he cried, breaking free of Aragorn's grip and running for the source of the smell.  
  
Aragorn picked up his speed as well, catching up with his friend as the passageway opened into a larger, well-lit cave. Legolas stumbled outside the cave and fell to his knees on the green grass, his eyes tightly closed and his head tipped back, absorbing the sun and the cool air.  
  
Aragorn dropped beside his friend, burying his face in the grass and inhaling deeply.  
  
They both remained motionless for some time, simply enjoying the freshness. Legolas opened his eyes and asked, "Where are we?" His voice cracked a bit.  
  
Aragorn sat up and looked about them, gauging the landscape, smells, and feels of the land...and nearly fell back down when he realized it. "We're in Rohan," he answered. "Land of horses, the Rohirrim, and peace, for the most part. Why was there a tunnel leading here?" His question was not directed at anyone in particular.  
  
"Who is to know, Estel?" Legolas asked, wincing as he pushed his still- bleeding legs out in front of him.  
  
The motion caught Aragorn's attention and he moved over to the Elf Prince. "Let me see to those cuts, Legolas. Please." The 'please' was obviously a last moment add-on, as Aragorn's eyes said plainly that Legolas was going nowhere before the Human took care of his injuries.  
  
"I should argue, but I will not," Legolas sighed, leaning back on his elbows and letting Aragorn tend to the injuries.  
  
Aragorn winced as he carefully peeled the cut, blood stained leggings away from the injuries. Legolas' eyes were closed and his face gave away no emotion, yet Estel had the sense that if they'd been alone; Legolas would have at least winced.  
  
Talagan watched the friends with something akin to amazement. Despite his brief acquaintances with other Elves, he had never really gotten to know any of them as well as Thorongil obviously knew Legolas. An undertone of teasing ran through everything they did, even in the dark of the cell where he had found them. It was amazing to Talagan that Legolas took the cleansing of his wounds so calmly; any other being would have been screaming by now, possibly even lashing out at the one who tried to help. But Legolas just sat there. In fact, the two very different beings seemed to be very close in age; had Talagan not known better, he would have sworn they were brothers.  
  
He was almost right. Legolas and Aragorn had been friends for years now, and trust ran very deep between them; trust so deep, it had cemented them together like brothers.  
  
Legolas winced slightly as Aragorn's gentle hands touched a very deep wound. "Are you trying to hurt me, or is that just a benefit?" he asked in faintly sarcastic Elvish.  
  
"Neither," Aragorn replied, chewing his lip. "I'm just trying to help here."  
  
"I know," Legolas replied, the teasing gone.  
  
A pause followed as Aragorn cut strips from Legolas' cloak to bind off the worst of the cuts. He accidentally tied one too tight, and Legolas' neck arced in a silent expression of pain.  
  
"Sorry...sorry," Aragorn murmured, loosening the offensive bandage.  
  
When Legolas recovered his breath, he said in a reflective tone, "I wish I was in Rivendell, with your father making badly veiled jests about how you and I seem to seek out trouble."  
  
"So do I, Legolas. So do I. I'm sure Lord Elrond wouldn't tie a bandage too tightly..." Aragorn said through his teeth. He missed Rivendell, especially at times like this. He knew the healing arts fairly well, but not nearly as well as his father did, and he was reminded of this every time he made a mistake that hurt one of his friends worse.  
  
They had been speaking in Common, forgetting Talagan's presence. They were reminded of his presence when he leaned forward. "Thorongil, you have been to Rivendell?" Talagan wasn't surprised to know that Legolas had been there; he assumed every Elf visited the other Elven realms often. But Thorongil being to Rivendell...that could explain a few odd things about him.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, realizing what they had said. His eyes met Legolas' briefly. His Elven friend was concerned as well; Aragorn's time in Rivendell was a carefully guarded secret.  
  
At last, Aragorn said, "I was raised in Rivendell...for a time." That's all he would say.  
  
"Oh," was all Talagan could think to say for a moment. Then, "That's why you speak Elvish so well. And why when you speak Common, a faint Elvish accent lingers. That's how you know Legolas so well."  
  
"Yes, to all. But I do not discuss this often. I would appreciate it if you would keep this to yourself." Aragorn's words were laced with steel.  
  
"Fine with me." Talagan's words were light.  
  
Aragorn tied off the last bandage--taking care not to hurt Legolas any more- -and stood, helping Legolas up. "We should move on," he said quietly. "Legolas and I are bound for Rivendell. Where you go is up to you."  
  
"As I told you, Thorongil, I intend to go back to Minas Tirith and ask for a new post. I know nothing beyond Gondor and the Corsairs, and I am quite happy to keep it that way. I'd like to try and forget what I've become over the last ten years." Talagan said quietly, his brown eyes fixed on the ground between his feet.  
  
Aragorn considered that. "If you ever have success, be sure and send a message to me in Rivendell. I will want to know how you do it."  
  
Talagan looked at Aragorn, confused. Aragorn continued quietly, "I have seen many things; some of those things are what make up my nightmares. In a time of war against the Corsairs, I learned many things that I am not proud to remember. But that's part of me now." Aragorn paused, thinking. He moved forward and clasped Talagan's shoulder. "May the Valar watch over your steps," he said, looking into the other Man's eyes.  
  
"Same to you, Thorongil. May we meet again someday," Talagan replied, clasping the Captain's shoulder in return.  
  
With those words, the trio parted ways; one to seek out his old life, two to find peace and safety for a time, at least.  
  
Legolas came out of his memories with a blink...and a faint smile. Aragorn and Legolas had bought two horses from a family of horse breeders and ridden to Rivendell, traveling both day and night. They arrived in Rivendell two weeks later, very nearly dead on their horses. Legolas' wounds re-opened so many times it was not even funny, and Elrond had been deeply concerned when they reached Rivendell.  
  
Legolas remembered that night vividly...  
  
"We made it, Legolas," Aragorn gasped as the friends rode through the archway of Rivendell. "We made it."  
  
There was no answer from his Elven friend, and Aragorn turned to look at him...just as the Elf slid off his horse and hit the ground. Fortunately for Legolas, they weren't on the cobblestones that paved the courtyard later, but on softer dirt. Even so, it was a hard fall.  
  
Filling his lungs with as much air as possible, Aragorn shouted, "Ada! Lord Elrond! Aaada!" The first call woke several people, the second brought people to the windows, and the third produced Elrond himself, a robe thrown hurriedly over his sleep clothes.  
  
"Estel!" he called, rushing to his son, who had dismounted by that time, and embracing him tightly.  
  
More footsteps clattered down the stairs and two identical Elves appeared at the bottom, hair and clothes mused. With identical cries of "Estel!" they rushed the human and embraced him warmly.  
  
Aragorn pushed them all away, whispering, "Legolas..." His main concern was his Elven friend, who had endured so much, but he could not complete the sentence. His grey eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Elrond stepped forward in time to catch the ranger, grunting as the full dead weight of the younger human was transferred to his arms.  
  
"Ada!" Elladan, the eldest of the twins, had gone to see what worried Aragorn so much. He found the blonde Elf Prince crumpled in a heap of torn, bloody skin and clothing.  
  
Elrohir ran to his brother's side and stared in horror at the Prince.  
  
"Do not just stand there, gwanûn," Elrond said, his tone strained as he picked the ranger up as he would a toddler: one arm under his legs, the other supporting his shoulders. "Get the Prince to his room." Twins.  
  
Nodding quickly, the identical twins picked Legolas up between them and followed their father up the stairs towards Aragorn's quarters and the guest chambers attached to them. Legolas had become such a permanent part of the house, however, that Aragorn's guest chambers had come to be known as 'Legolas' rooms'.  
  
The three Elven healers worked between the two all night, working to stave off a sickness in Estel's body and to seal up Legolas' cuts. By the time morning rolled around, Elrond was exhausted.  
  
Sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in Aragorn's room, Elrond told the twins to go get some rest. They left Aragorn's room...and set up camp in the armchairs in Legolas' room. Elrond shook his head with a weary smile. He knew his sons; he only hoped they would be sensitive to Legolas' needs when he woke up.  
  
Elrond had examined Legolas while his sons tended to Estel's illness, and, from what he had seen; he could make an educated guess as to what had happened. His father's heart ached for Legolas, ached for the pain the young Elf had been through.  
  
Elrond wasn't aware of dozing off until movement in the bed woke him. He lifted his head and looked toward where his son lay...or had been lying. Aragorn was now sitting up in bed, reaching for a glass of water that was just beyond his reach.  
  
Aragorn felt dizzy and disorientated. His mouth was unbearably dry, and he couldn't think any farther than getting that drink. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this comfortable place was just a dream, but he didn't care, so long as that water was real.  
  
Elrond was fortunate he possessed Elven reflexes. They barely enabled him to catch Aragorn as the ranger collapsed again.  
  
"What were you doing?" Elrond asked, mildly amused.  
  
"I was trying to get a drink, Ada," Aragorn replied through thick, uncooperative lips. "So thirsty..."  
  
Elrond heaved the ranger back onto the bed and tucked him in again. "When you want something, Estel, you need to ask for it. Right now is not a good time for you to be moving about."  
  
"All right, Ada..." Aragorn's eyes moved to the water glass. "Can I please have a drink?"  
  
"Certainly," Elrond replied, reaching over and deftly plucking the glass off the nightstand. Supporting Aragorn with one arm, the Elf Lord tipped the glass into the ranger's mouth. Estel drank thirstily, draining the entire glass within seconds.  
  
"Can I have some more?" he asked, his mouth feeling clearer, but his throat still ached for water.  
  
This continued until the entire water pitcher was empty. Only then did Aragorn relax against the pillows. "How is Legolas?" he asked, feeling horribly selfish for having taken care of his own needs before inquiring about his friend.  
  
"He is sleeping right now, I think," Elrond replied, glancing in the direction of Legolas' room. "I tended to many of his wounds." His gaze looked through Estel, asking what couldn't be asked aloud.  
  
Aragorn just closed his eyes. "Ask him. I don't know his side of it all yet. We never talked about it." By the end of his sentence, he was asleep, his body working to recover itself from both the injuries he had sustained and the lack of substance he had endured for days.  
  
Elrond nodded grimly. It was as he had guessed; his son was unwilling to talk about any of it without Legolas' permission and/or approval. That showed sensitivity greater than his years.  
  
Speaking of sensitivity...the Elf Lord got up and walked into Legolas' room, where he heard soft talk and quiet laughter.  
  
Legolas was awake and talking quietly to the twins, his chin propped on his palms. Elrond leaned against the doorframe and watched the interaction silently, noting what wasn't being said. Legolas' blue eyes had a haunted look to them, and he involuntarily flinched every time one of the twins touched him, though the twins didn't notice.  
  
Legolas glanced up and noticed Elrond. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but shame quickly covered the fair face and the Prince looked away.  
  
"Elladan, Elrohir, can you two please leave us alone for a moment?" Elrond asked, moving into the room.  
  
Elladan glanced up at his father and, noting the serious cast on the older Elf's face, got up and dragged his brother up as well. "We shall be back when Ada is done talking to you, Legolas," he promised, pulling Elrohir out the door.  
  
Legolas didn't answer. He seemed to suddenly find his pale hands very interesting, watching his long fingers pull the coverlet one way, then another.  
  
Elrond took a seat in the chair Elladan had vacated. He said nothing, just watched the younger Elf fiddle with his coverlet.  
  
"Dare I hope you do not know what happened?" Legolas finally asked, breaking the silence.  
  
Elrond didn't say anything for a long moment, and then he shook his head slowly. "You may hope, indeed, but that hope would be futile."  
  
Legolas sighed slowly. "And you have naught to say?" he asked softly.  
  
"No," Elrond said, leaning forward and attempting to meet Legolas' eyes. "I have naught to say, just a question to ask."  
  
"Ask." Legolas' tone was expressionless, as was his face.  
  
"Why did you choose to stay?" Elrond asked, genuinely curious. He had sensed, when he was tending to Legolas, that the choice had been decided of Legolas' free will, and he wondered why the Elf choose to stay, when he had had no hope beyond the walls of the small cell he had been imprisoned in.  
  
Startled, Legolas met Elrond's eyes. "Because..." he paused, trying to remember. It seemed like a million years ago, and yet so very unbearably close. "Because Aragorn reminded me I had something to live for," he finished quietly, remembering the sweet strains of the heart-broken song, reaching through the dark and touching the despairing heart. "He reminded me that there had once been sunlight, starlight, joy and peace, and that there was much yet to live for."  
  
Elrond listened silently, and as Legolas fell silent, the Elf Lord reached out to touch the Prince's hand. Legolas flinched a bit, but he relaxed after an instant. Closing his eyes momentarily, Legolas looked at Elrond again, meeting the concerned grey eyes with quiet reassurance. "When it was over," Legolas said after a moment, "I had honestly forgotten the feel of the wind on my face, the sound of a forest in peace, the smell of a spring morning. Estel reminded me of all those."  
  
Elrond smiled. Aragorn had always been that way, even when he was a young child. That was one of the reasons they named him 'Hope'. "And what are your thoughts now, Legolas? Do you regret staying?"  
  
"Regret staying?" Legolas repeated quietly, twinging a piece of thread between his fingers. "No, I do not think so. How can I regret staying to torment the twins? Or regret seeing Isil bathe Rivendell in her peaceful gleam, and Anor driving away the shadows of the night? As beautiful as Valinor may be, I will wait to leave these shores until my tasks have been completed."  
  
"That is well," Elrond said, smiling. "I would not wish to be the one to bear the news to Estel."  
  
"Bear what news to me?" asked a familiar voice from the doorway.  
  
Both Elves jumped as they turned to look in the direction of the youthful voice. Aragorn stood there, his dark hair messy from sleep and his eyes tired. He had to cling to the doorframe in order to remain standing, but a smile glinted in his silvery eyes.  
  
Elrond jumped to his feet and moved quickly to his son's side, saying, "Estel, did I or did I not tell you to remain in bed?"  
  
"I don't have Elf ears; I couldn't eavesdrop on you two from my bedroom. I came to see if Legolas was ok," Aragorn said, moving a hand to his father's shoulder.  
  
A silvery laugh flowed from the bed and both father and son turned to look at Legolas. The Elf Prince was leaning on his hands for support, gasping for breath.  
  
"What's so funny?" Aragorn asked, stumbling as he leaned on Elrond. The Elf Lord moved carefully towards Legolas' bed, his human son in tow.  
  
"You were trying to eavesdrop on us?" Legolas demanded, moving over and patting the bed beside him. "Why?"  
  
"You and Ada always have interesting conversations," Aragorn protested, sitting down beside his friend with a groan.  
  
"I think that is supposed to be a compliment," Elrond remarked dryly as he retrieved his chair and pulled it closer to the bed.  
  
"I know I should be worried," Legolas chuckled. As if the sound was a trigger, his mouth opened in a huge yawn. His eyes suddenly looked just as tired as Aragorn's did.  
  
Elrond glanced between the two and got up. His steps soundless, he went into his small herb closet.  
  
Legolas watched the Elf Lord go and smiled as he guessed what Elrond was up to.  
  
Aragorn voiced what both friends were thinking. "Watch out...Ada's making tea!" he said loudly enough to be heard in both rooms.  
  
The friends shared a chuckle that was joined by Elrond as he exited the herb room, two mugs in hand. "And is that so bad, ion-nin?" My son.  
  
"Depends on the tea, Ada," Aragorn retorted, taking the offered mug in both hands. He lowered his face to it and sniffed it long and suspiciously. When he lifted his head, his eyes were full of rueful accusation. "Aren't we tired enough, Ada?"  
  
"Are you asleep?" Elrond asked rhetorically, handing the Elf prince the other mug. Leaning close to his human son, Elrond scrutinized the bleary silver-blue eyes. "Unless you have taken to sleeping with your eyes open, as our prince does, you are not asleep, therefore you are not tired enough."  
  
Legolas rolled his eyes at all the discussion. Placing his lips against the rim of the cup, he drank deeply, nearly draining the cup with one gulp. His eyelids drooped and he barely managed to get the cup to the bedside table before he collapsed, asleep before he hit the pillow.  
  
Aragorn looked from Elrond to Legolas with a long-suffering look before he also drank deeply from the mug. The results were much faster with the human as opposed to the sleeping Elf prince. Aragorn's eyes dropped closed and he fell back against the pillows, the cup falling from his nerveless fingers and spattering its contents all over the floor.  
  
Elrond smiled and pulled a blanket over the two unconscious friends. Scooping the cup up off the floor, the Elf Lord pulled the curtains closed so the rising sun wouldn't disturb the friends and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  
  
((A/N 2: I think that's the end of the cliffies...so much for that science experiment. disappointed, then brightens Oh well, I'll just have to wait until next story. BTW, this isn't the end of the story. Almost there, but not quite. Ok, enough of that. Reviewer responses!  
  
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: Yes, cave-ins. After all, no excursion into a cave with a terrified elf is complete without one! And yes, he should live, though his recovery time might be long...but it was destined to be so anyway. The challenge I was referring to is here: http:www.aragorn- ting with the strange people who enjoy my cliffies pointed look and moving to those who regularly review Cassia and Sio's stuff.  
  
Evil little person? Me? innocent angel look You must be referring to some other Vana. LOL.  
  
About the food thing...I can't give much away, but that 'wolfing' thing comes into play in the next chapter...but that's all I can say!  
  
giggles When I was first mentally writing this story, I had the three 'El's (Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir) come charging in to rescue them. Then I realized how ludicrous that sounded, dropped that idea, and conceived the thought of a sheep in wolf's clothing while I was scrubbing a shower floor. (I'm a housecleaner by trade...kinda nice...gives me a lot of vacuum time when no one bothers the story-writing thoughts.)  
  
Pity me? Naw, I love your reviews. Really, I pity you, being forced to stop at such a crucial part.  
  
Maybe not much more physical angst, but remember that poor Legolas is still dealing with emotional trauma, some of which we see here and more in the next chappy.  
  
BTW, I'd be honored if you'd check out my other stories here. Some are emotionally wrenching, others are just fun.  
  
KingThranduil007: But cliffies are fun! Welcome!  
  
Crispy: Yeth, mathter. Again, cliffies are our friends!  
  
Kenobisaqt: checks Kenobsaqt's pulse You look ok...but this is for you!  
  
Until next time!)) 


	6. Recovery

((A/N 1: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! First finals, then traveling...it's been really hectic. I hope this chapter is worth your wait.))  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Day had come and departed again as the two friends slept, neither moving in their abject exhaustion. As night fell again, bringing the stars of Elbereth out clearly, Legolas began having the nightmares.  
  
He was in the cell of the Corsair fortress again, looking frantically for Aragorn. He could have sworn the young human was safely resting in his arms a moment ago, but now he was nowhere to be found, and that scared Legolas.  
  
Then, as dreams do, the dream changed. Now, Legolas was standing in Talnich's throne room. He could see no bonds, but he was incapable of any movement greater than blinking and breathing. On the other side of the room, Aragorn was bound to the floor by chains attached to metal rings firmly affixed to the floor. Talnich stood behind the bound ranger, a smile on his face. Aragorn's shirt was cut down the back, hanging loosely from his broad shoulders.  
  
Talnich lifted the leather whip he held in his hand and began lashing the bound ranger, slowly at first, then faster and faster until Aragorn's cries of pain ran together in a continuous shriek of pain. Legolas fought his bonds, trying to cry out, to do something other than just stand there and watch.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Talnich paused for a moment. He ran his fingers down the ranger's bleeding back and held his dripping hand up for Legolas' inspection. "You failed, elfling," he whispered, his dark eyes burning into Legolas' soul "You failed your friend. You're a failure."  
  
"NO!" Legolas finally managed to work the invisible gag off his mouth and shriek with the pain of seeing his friend like that.  
  
The cry, audible to the waking world, shook Aragorn from the dead sleep of the drugged. He sat up, looking about wildly-and groggily-for the source of the heart-rending cry.  
  
"ARAGORN!" The second cry shook the grogginess from Aragorn's mind and he scrambled for Legolas.  
  
The faintly glowing figure was curled in a corner, the coverlet flung away from him. His hands were flung out in a pleading gesture and his wide-open eyes were glazed with terror.  
  
Aragorn crawled over to him and gently grabbed his shoulder. "Legolas," he called. "Wake up!"  
  
In his dream, Aragorn's hands belonged to Talnich, cold and dripping with Aragorn's blood. Legolas screamed again, a wordless shriek of pain and terror, and fought against Aragorn's hands. A lucky shot hit Aragorn in the cheekbone, and he fell back, gasping in pain.  
  
Recovering from the blow, Aragorn grabbed his friend's flailing hands and pinned them against the bed, calling to Legolas in the Grey Tongue.  
  
The words pierced through Legolas' dreams, and he stilled, frowning. That calm voice didn't belong in his dreams...where did it come from? As Aragorn, encouraged by his friend's response, kept calling to him, Legolas surfaced from his dreams and looked wildly about, his eyes finally locking on Aragorn's face, hovering worriedly over him.  
  
"Estel?" he gasped, his eyes settling. "Are you all right?"  
  
Aragorn smiled, relieved. "Am I all right? You're the one who was having the nightmare. Are you all right?"  
  
Legolas looked away, trying to remember how to breathe normally. "I dreamt about Talnich's caves," he whispered, remembering every detail. Slowly, his words halting, he told Aragorn his entire dream.  
  
Aragorn let out a breath. Small wonder the Elf had cried out. "Are you still tired?" he asked after a moment.  
  
Legolas laughed ruefully. "Though it appears we slept all day, yes, I am still quite tired."  
  
"So am I," Aragorn chuckled. "So let's try this. I think part of your dream stemmed from the nights we spent in that freezing cave. You grew accustomed to holding me throughout the night, keeping me warm and safe. This is the first time you've really slept without that."  
  
"I see," Legolas nodded, thoughtful. "Since I did not feel you in my arms, my subconscious mind thought something had happened to you."  
  
"Right. So, since we're both still tired, let's try sleeping like that." Aragorn suggested.  
  
Legolas smiled. "Or is it perhaps because you do not feel safe, even here, and need that contact again?"  
  
"That's part of it, I'll admit readily." Aragorn said, glaring at his Elven friend's soft laughter. "But I also want you to sleep well...and I don't fancy getting another bruise from you." His chuckle was rueful as he rubbed his bruised cheekbone.  
  
Legolas' eyes followed Aragorn's hand and widened imperceptibly. "Did I do that?" he asked, already knowing the truth.  
  
"Yes, but don't worry about it," Aragorn assured. "What matters now is that we need rest."  
  
Legolas nodded in agreement, letting the issue go for now. Scooting forward, the Elf engulfed his friend in his warm embrace and they settled back onto the bed. They lay still for a moment, both friends just enjoying each other's comfort, before Legolas started humming softly. Aragorn snuggled back against his friend as he listened, his back thrumming in time with Legolas' humming.  
  
The song was not one native to the northern lands, but it evoked strong memories for Aragorn. It was the lullaby the Haradrim slaves sang every night in their tents, the gently lilting song soothing tired bodies and frayed emotions. Closing his eyes, Aragorn remembered Mambre and Cabed, his Haradrim parents. Pain was in those memories, particularly the small fact that it took Legolas being beat to a pulp for him to remember who he truly was, but the love the Haradrim had exhibited remained a warm memory for the ranger.  
  
Those memories in mind, Aragorn fell asleep, Legolas not far behind him.  
  
Morning dawned, finding the friends still dead to the world and still curled comfortably together. Legolas had been untroubled by dreams that night, and Aragorn didn't move all night.  
  
They woke up to the sound of the door opening. Legolas lifted his head groggily and propped his chin on Aragorn's shoulder as Aragorn's bleary eyes focused on Elrond, the one who had entered.  
  
"Good morning, Aragorn, Legolas," the Elf Lord greeted. He gingerly set the tray he carried on the table that occupied a corner of the spacious room. Brushing his hands clean, Elrond walked to where the friends still lay, too comfortable to move. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, sitting down on the corner of the bed.  
  
Aragorn let out a huff of a breath that pushed Legolas' stray hair back off the human's face. "Well enough," he replied, eyeing the food hungrily.  
  
Legolas released Aragorn and the two friends disentangled themselves from each other. Their minds were filled with one purpose: getting to the food that sent its tempting vapors whirling through the room.  
  
Elrond followed their gaze and laughed lightly. Picking the tray back up, he carried it to the starving friends and set it down in front of them.  
  
Aragorn looked from the food to Legolas and swallowed. The tray was full of simple foods such as apples, light breads and jerky. He was so hungry, but he also knew his friend hadn't eaten in days. "You go ahead and eat," he said to Legolas, swallowing again and trying to ignore his stomach. "You need it more than I do."  
  
"No I do not!" Legolas protested, eyeing the food hungrily. "I am an Elf. We do not require as much food as you Humans do."  
  
Elrond leaned against the doorframe, watching the discussion before him with concealed amusement.  
  
"Legolas, you haven't eaten in days!" Aragorn argued, his eyes also drawn to the food.  
  
"And what you did eat was rotten," Legolas retorted.  
  
The friends exchanged a look that said more than words...and dove into the food, eating as if it would sprout legs and run away otherwise.  
  
"Slow down, slow down!" Elrond cried, worried and amused. "You will make yourselves sick!"  
  
"It'd be worth it," Aragorn said around a mouthful.  
  
"No, it would not," Legolas contradicted softly, slowing down. "We need to be well enough to head back to Mirkwood as soon as possible. Ada will be frantic."  
  
"I think your father will understand, Legolas," Elrond said, settling down on a chair. "I will send a messenger hawk to him and let him know that you two will be staying here for a time."  
  
"Wonderful," Legolas mumbled around a mouthful of jerky. "That will thrill him."  
  
"You don't have a choice, Legolas," Aragorn pointed out, setting his handful of bread down. "Ada doesn't like to let patients go until he is sure they are completely healed."  
  
Legolas smiled sadly, swallowing. "I cannot remain here that long."  
  
Aragorn winced as he realized what his friend truly meant. "Be that as it may, Legolas, you will need to remain for a time."  
  
"All right, all right!" Legolas agreed, finishing his handful of jerky. "I can see there is no getting out of it."  
  
"Darned right," Aragorn said, resting a hand companionably on Legolas' shoulder. The Prince smiled and squeezed his friend's hand.  
  
Legolas blinked as the sun, rising from behind a hill, shone in his eyes. He smiled as he remembered where he was and he looked at Aragorn, still sleeping on the bed.  
  
The friends had remained in Rivendell for several months, recovering from their traumatic time with the Corsairs and enjoying being in the peace and safety of Rivendell. After two weeks, they were able to get up and move about without Elrond watching them with disapproval and after three weeks Legolas was able to sleep peacefully without Aragorn tucked safely in his arms.  
  
"Ilúvatar watched over us, mellon nin," Legolas murmured quietly aloud. "We should have died, but we did not."  
  
Aragorn stirred, disturbed by his friend's voice. Opening silver blue eyes, the Man looked at his friend blearily. "Didn't you sleep at all?" he asked, sitting up and absently grabbing his sword belt.  
  
"No," Legolas replied, shaking his head and gazing out the window. "But I am all right. I am--"  
  
"An Elf," Aragorn continued, rolling his eyes. "And you don't need much sleep. But we have a long ride to Isengard today."  
  
Legolas' shoulders lifted in the closest thing he ever came to a shrug. "I can sleep astride a horse, you know," he said with a teasing glint to his eyes.  
  
"Aye," added a gruff voice. "But would ye be able to keep us both a-horse, Master Elf, should you fall asleep? I have no desire to fall off from that beast you like so much."  
  
Legolas looked at Gimli, who was now very much awake and enjoying teasing his friend very much. "Yes, I can, Master Dwarf. The better question is: can you remain astride a horse at all?" Legolas' eyes twinkled as he deftly parried his friend's teasing words.  
  
Gimli grumped about that a moment. Legolas managed to avoid the answer by getting up and ducking out of the room, saying quickly to Aragorn in Elvish, "I will go see if there is any food to be had for three hungry warriors."  
  
Aragorn nodded, and Legolas fled, a wide grin on his face. Yes, he knew, it had taken him some time to recover from all that happened. But now, looking back, he realized that he was stronger somehow. He would not have chosen this path on his own, but as it had been chosen for him, he would follow it to the best of his abilities.  
  
May we all follow the path foreordained for us with courage and fortitude.  
  
The End  
  
((A/N: Well, here we are at the end of the story, and that is a blessing and a curse all at once. A blessing for you guys because now you don't have to endure until the next chapter, but a curse for me because I will miss the wonderful comments and reviews you guys have left. Ok, speaking of which, reviewer responses first, then I have a very personal message for everyone reading this, one that I've struggled over for days.  
  
Kenobisaqt: Again, thanks!  
  
Fireball: Wow. I'm completely honored. I know how it is with camping trips, how you feel like dirt for days afterwards. To answer your question, no, no pairing, slash or otherwise. I try to steer clear of all of that.  
  
Jacquelinestel: Thanks! I'm so glad you like my story!  
  
Elithraniel: Yep, but just this last chapter. Aw, don't be envious! Just keep at it!  
  
Inwe Elendil: blushes You guys are so sweet!  
  
I have felt strongly impressed over the past couple days to write this message. I fought the impression hard and long, because what I have to say is strongly controversial. But I cannot, with a good conscience, let this story end without telling you this.  
  
If you have read any of my other stories, particularly Leaving and Return or Grief and Unending Hope, then you should be able to guess where I stand spiritually. I'm a Christian, and I try to write my stories from that perspective. I have felt strongly that I'm to tell you that if you've run away from Father God like Estel ran away from Lord Elrond, or if shame is eating you from the inside out like it tried to eat Legolas, or if you're not sure where you'd wake up if you died today, that I'm to tell you to come to Jesus.  
  
Allow me the privilege of sharing my testimony with you. I understand if you hit 'Back' at any point during this, and I will not be offended if you decide this is worth flaming me about.  
  
I was born to a Christian household and became a believer at a very young age, three or yea about. As I grew up and started entering the teen years, however, I began questioning what I had known as fact since I was very young. When I entered the teen years, I turned my back on God, though I truly didn't know that was what I was doing. I had a pretty mask that I wore in front of my church friends, my family, and even for myself. I messed around a bit sexually...never really went anywhere with it, but I did toy with it.  
  
When I was a bit older, fourteen or so, I went to a church meeting with my family. There I was confronted with the plain and simple fact that what I was doing was wrong. I turned my life back over to God. I wish I could say life's been a field of roses since, but it hasn't. I've had trials and problems like anyone else. But the difference is that now, I have someone bigger than me to cling to.  
  
I can't make any of you accept what I'm saying as truth. But I beg you to at least consider what I'm saying before throwing my words away as trash. If you have any questions whatsoever, please do not hesitate to e-mail me at vanalosswenhotmail.com. I would love to help answer any questions.  
  
Hesitates. That's really all I have to say. Until the next story, I bid all of you farewell.)) 


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